Space, Time and Death
by BluePard
Summary: Complete. Focused on the Dreams of Zeal, this fanfic spans humor, drama and all out reader panic. After saving the world, is the fate of a few objects so important?
1. None May Slow the Impact

  
"We used to joke that together we would conquer three great challenges: space, time and death." --Al Hibbs, NASA scientist  
  
  
  
  
"Not a cat?" Lucca glanced at the sleeping purple and violet form. It certainly looked like a cat.  
  
"I suppose most cats where you come from answer questions...?" Magus narrowed his eyes at them.  
  
"Behavior is inconsistant with that of a cat; however, outside appearance is feline." said Robo.  
  
"She's a dream, like Masa or Mune. They were Melchior's dream; she is my father's." Magus sighed. "He wanted to be sure that they were doing the right thing by harvesting Lavos' energy. Father wanted to call down some oracle or deity to confirm it, but of course such a thing doesn't exist. It's just a dream--a dream which became Alfador."  
  
"So, she's a... an oracle?" Crono knit his brows.  
  
"You might say that."  
  
Marle drew her knees to her chest, as if sensing the oncoming climax of a ghost story. "And she said...?"  
  
"She said it'd kill us all."  
  
The group sweated for a moment, and not from the heat of the campfire. Alfador raised its head and mewed angrily.  
  
"Ch'. I suppose you want me to say in your melodramatic way?" The cat nodded. "All right. What she said was..."  
  
  
  
  
"Someday, the force which holds Zeal up in the sky shall drop it, and none on Earth may slow the impact."  
  
King Zeal was startled, but the emotion showed only in a quick, slight widening of his eyes. Beside him, the Queen's eyes had narrowed. She turned and focused them on her husband.  
  
"So... this is my gift? This... impertinent, disrespectful child?!"  
  
"I am sure she has your best interests at heart, dear," The King's words were soft and flitting, and the two young children peeking out from where they hid behind the throne could not even catch them. "She was designed to care about nothing but the ones I love."  
  
"This is why I speak, my Queen," said Alfador, bowing. "I mean no disrespect. But Lavos--this force you are tapping into--is a ravaging one. It shall consume you and destroy you and, through you, destroy every thing you care about--your husband, your children and Zeal."  
  
The Queen's fists clenched. Behind her, two unseen children huddled a little. When the King and Queen began to talk in hushed whispers again, Alfador pulled down her eyelids and stuck her tongue out at them. The eldest giggled, quickly supressing it.  
  
"Come on, let's wait for her in the hallway," she whispered, awkwardly stepping over the little sibling lying on the ground and peeking into the throne room from under the hem of her robe. 


	2. His Sister and His Cat

"There are many ways of breaking a heart, stories are full of hearts being broken by love, but what really breaks a heart is taking away its dream."  
  
  
  
Magus gasped, barely able to make out the red of his blood against the blue background of his hair before blackness took him. He felt as if he were dreaming, but he thought he could make out the sounds of battle, the clash of swords and chanted spells weaving past him, although he could not guess their source or how they came to him. He was not aware of time, but eventually he became aware of his breathing, that he raised himself, that his eyes had opened and the sight, once again, of his red blood and blue hair. There was also a glimmer of magic fading--a sparkle on the edge of glass as the small, long tube that had held a full tonic lost its magic and again became breakable. He raised his head--there were his allies of convenience, engaged with Lavos. Alfador knealt his side.  
  
He shouldn't worry for her, knowing full well that she could not be broken while locked with Schala's feline spell. But for a moment he wondered, before regaining himself completely and returning to the immediate, to battle.  
  
The last time he had met Lavos, he proved no match. He was left with nothing but the fading image of his sister, her face drained of vitality and her violet hair undone by Lavos' pull. That seemed ages ago, now, but the scene had burned itself into his memory and would not be erased. More than that, the memory was pecking at him like a buzzard, trying to see if his brain were still active, with no reaction. On it pecked, and his brain could not find the connection, could not rise itself on its arms, although occassionally, it twitched.  
  
After fighting Lavos, though, his memories seemed to reach out to each other and share their vitality. As one they rose, and punched him in the face.  
  
  
  
  
  
Frog polished the Masamune to put himself at ease. He smiled slightly, content with having done the impossible. But, for the same reason incontent, for this meant a parting of ways. He was impatient to return to Queen Leene and protect her, as he had promised, but it had been so comforting to be around them all this time, to be accepted by this group, these friends.  
  
A familiar small, furry presence knead into his back.  
  
"Be that feline for, 'why doth thou pet the sword, when there be I?'" He smiled. He extended a hand slightly, and, as always, Alfador lept straight into the crook of his arm.  
  
He raised a hand to pet her, but she bit the end of his finger, almost taking the leather off. He had forgotten. He pulled off his glove and pet her without protest this time. She didn't care about the coldness of his hand, but gloves she would not tolerate.  
  
Here was another companion that would be gone, ere long... it was not comparable to the loss of the others with whom he had struggled side by side, but the loss of the cat sleeping under his cape, or twining around his legs to remind him when he got off course seemed symbolic of everything he would miss.  
  
He continued petting Alfador as though nothing were wrong, looking up an instant before Magus turned the doorknob. Magus' presence was obvious not only because of his strong ki and magic aura, but because it was a presence branded on Frog's mind. His tolerance still wore thin without the others there.  
  
"Amazing, you still treat her like that." Magus flicked the door away distainly, entering. "I did tell you she's a person, didn't I?"  
  
"I am aware," said Frog. He stopped petting, and Alfador nuzzled his hovering hand. "But she is a person who acts remarkably like a cat."  
  
Alfador looked up at him. She might have grinned, but as a cat she always grinned.  
  
"Alfador, come." said Magus. He held out a hand. Alfador nuzzled as best she could into the crevices between Frog and his armor.  
  
"Even the average cat would not respond to such." said Frog, smiling and stroking her ears.  
  
"Alfador..."  
  
She mewed innocently, a halo above her head.  
  
"Ano..." Frog looked confused. "How dost she do that?"  
  
"I knew it..." Magus ignored Frog's protests, catching the cat by the scruff of her neck and hauling her out of the tent. She made wailing noises that sounded suspiciously like swearing.  
  
"All right." He found a clearing in the woods away from the others and threw her down in a motion that was half a light drop. "No more of this. Bring Schala here. Now."  
  
Alfador turned her head to one side inquistively and flicked an ear.  
  
Magus closed his eyes in restraint and slowly drew in a breath. His ear flicked as well--there was a sound almost like swords clashing and a shadow was instantly upon him.  
  
He stepped back slowly, giving the Epoch more room to land than it needed. There was no one visible driving it--but he alone of the group realized that Epoch was more than capable of driving itself.  
  
It landed softly with the noise of a golf club hitting dirt.  
  
He stepped forward cautiously ... looking to Alfador, he found her wiping her face with a paw and ignoring Epoch and himself entirely. He approached--Epoch's canope opened of its own will. He glanced within.  
  
In the back slept an Enlightened one. The Zealian dress was unmistakeable, a purple robe of soft materials, magic user written all over its demeanor in neat little ancient cursive. To the slightest degree it offset the baby sky blue hue of the long, flowing hair wrapped around the girl's neck like a scarf.  
  
He stared at the shut eyelids a moment. He had demanded it. Here she was.  
  
Were things supposed to be this simple...?  
  
He didn't know what was supposed to come next. He reached out a hand and was mystified to find it brushing his sister's cheek, moving a stray lock from her face.  
  
"Schala...?"  
  
He was frightened, for a moment, that she wasn't moving. But that was absurd--he could feel her ki, slight though it was because of her sleeping, and her breath sighed softly against the Epoch's interior. He listened to it for a while.  
  
"Alfador, become human."  
  
He didn't look back at her. His eyes were still locked on Schala's closed eyelashes. Eventually he glanced over his shoulder, and there she was. It was like a picture from his childhood, his oldest memories when he was five years old. Her violet hair was tied up in that odd ponytail of hers, her dress was identifiable as Zealian but also looked ready to take a lot of romping around in, her face still sported the maddening, impish grin that he suddenly realized was all too cattish.  
  
It was like a picture, but it promptly moved.  
  
"Hey, Schala-samaaa!!" She landed beside Magus in a single, Frog-like hop. "Time for all good princesses to rise and shine!"  
  
Schala mumbled and tossed a little.   
  
Magus panicked. "You... you...!"  
  
"Don't you just love me?" said Alfador.  
  
"Not at this particular moment, no!"  
  
"Alfie...?" Schala rubbed her eyes and pulled herself up a little. Magus flinched.  
  
"Methinks he dinnae like that nickname." said Alfador.  
  
"Who...?" Schala's eyes locked onto Magus'. He began making scary, harddrive crashing noises.  
  
Schala broke her gaze, though Magus did not. She looked around and yawned. "Where am I?"  
  
"1000 A.D., Schala-sama."  
  
"Which means...?"  
  
"Um..." Alfador stopped grinning for a brief moment with the effort of doing math. "It's 13,000 years after the fall of Zeal."  
  
Schala blinked. "Oh."  
  
"Wuh... wuh... wuh..."  
  
"Is he all right?" Schala raised a blue eyebrow at the vampiric figure.  
  
"He'll be fine." Alfador caught Magus by the crook of his arm and helped Schala out of the Epoch with her free hand. "Let's go surprise the others, shall we?"  
  
  
  
  
  
The others were terribly surprised, though the shock was not at all helped by Alfador entering with a loud cry of "Make way for Schala-sama, Princess of Zeal! Cute, perky and SIIN-GLE!"  
  
"That's enough, Alfador." said Schala, blushing.  
  
"Schala...! You're all right!" Marle embraced the wistfully-smiling figure with what can unfortunately only be described as "glee".  
  
"Lady Schala..." Frog smiled.  
  
"What? Lady come back?" Ayla looked back and forth between Schala, Magus and the unknown person.  
  
"Whiddget... whadda... hema... gd...d....vuhh..."  
  
"Is he gonna be okay?" Lucca adjusted her glasses to better see the sight of Magus, Prince of Zeal, Leader of the Mystic Forces, Tall, Dark and Dumbfounded.  
  
"Whuhhhkkk?! Alfador!! HOW?!!!"  
  
"Brain system back online, we have confirmation." Alfador laid a hand reassuringly on Magus' shoulder and just barely got it back.  
  
"'How' is a good place to start." said a mystified looking Crono, sitting down and ushering the others to follow suit.  
  
"I think I know the how..." said Magus, calming himself. "What about the where and the why?"  
  
"I've already explained as much as I could to Schala without her... well, doing whatever you're doing." She gestured at Magus. "But I might as well tell you all the short version..."  
  
She drew in a big breath.  
  
"Sleep," said Alfador, turning serious, "Is the home of us Dreams. It functions on a time scale separate from this world's--so that even though I have been locked in cat form for only a few years and Masa and Mune have been quested after for centuries, I am still the older. This is what let Kah Ray--the Black Omen, as you know him--appear to exist simultaneously from his creation to the end of time. He somehow enveloped himself with a portion of Sleep--"  
  
"The Black Omen was a person...?" Lucca said.  
  
Alfador nodded. "A creation of Lavos, through the Queen. Because we dreams only exist because of dreamers, the death of Lavos and the Queen caused him to dissappear in all times, rather than just crashing like a normal object."  
  
"Get to the point." said Magus. "You brought Schala there...?"  
  
"Right!" She grinned again. "Humans can go to Sleep if they wish. When you used Trigger to stop time, it took me only an moment to confirm her wish to leave, take her to Sleep, have her unlock me from my cat form, change into her form and take her place."  
  
Magus nodded to himself. Alfador, no longer restrained, would have no trouble getting herself out of the Black Omen.  
  
"I see..." said Frog. "As the underground palace may be the Black Omen, and Masa and Mune becometh children, mystic or sword..."  
  
"Mystic?" Alfador looked perturbed. "That's our base form. No distinguishing features, no gender, easy to maintain."  
  
"That is the how and the where," said Magus. "The why--?"  
  
"Eh?" said Alfador. "Well, I rather like Schala-sama..."  
  
"Why hide her this whole time?"  
  
"Ah, well..." Alfador steepled her hands and studied them. "I rather like being a cat, you know? People don't try to kill you or talk behind your back. If they notice you, they just pet you."  
  
She was met with silence.  
  
"It's very relaxing..." she said.  
  
Schala laughed. "Don't worry, Alfador. I haven't been gone all that long... it's not really a big deal."  
  
  
  
Alfador glanced at Schala, as if noticing something.   
  
"He's not dead, y'know," she said quietly.  
  
They glanced at each other. Magus' breathing seemed very loud.  
  
Schala smiled.  
  
"I had no doubt, Alfador." Schala seemed, nonetheless, reassured. "You wouldn't act so casual if he were."  
  
"Actually, I just might!" Alfador's grin was back. "After all, I only need you around to survive, an' he was kind of getting on my nerves..."  
  
Magus glared at her. Schala just shook her head, smiling.  
  
"But there's something wrong here..." Alfador abruptly turned serious again. "It is..." But it didn't last long. "--I haven't welcomed you all yet!"  
  
She hugged Schala princessly, under the arms. "Schala-sama!! I missed you so much! We must have a slumber party! That is what girls do, isn't it?"  
  
She tackle-hugged Magus. "J--Magusu-sama!! Don't growl at me! It's not attractive! What happened to your ears and eyes? They're not attractive either!"  
  
She hugged Marle around the neck. "Marle-sama!! Are you and Crono-sama getting married? Don't think I haven't noticed! I wouldn't rush into it, there might be better! You are a princess!"  
  
She hugged Crono 'round the waist. "Crono-sama!! You're looking flustered. You need a cough drop? Doreen gets them, don't ask me how, maybe it's better if you don't!"  
  
She tried to get her arms around Robo. "Robo-sama!! Can I see the future?! I think that's where Doreen gets things! I really wanna know! But she can't time travel, an' Epoch's mad at me, 'cause I call him 'Wot', but then, she does too!"  
  
She hugged Ayla lightly. "Ayla-sama!! You neat chick! Me digs! Oooo, I know you and Kino-sama must get married! He's so cute! Don't hurt him!"  
  
She knocked Lucca over. "Lucca-sama!! Don't kill Crono-sama before his wedding day! You're his best friend, you get to be best man! ...maybe bridesmaid?"  
  
She tapped Frog on the head, then hugged his human form. "Glenn-sama!! Maybe you get to be the best man? I get to be the best Dream! Masa and Mune can't come! They'll eat everything!"  
  
They made no attempt to hide their surprise. Nevermind how easily Alfador thought it, seeing the small statured anthropomorphic amphibian suddenly turn into a tall, medieval young man was not a routine sight. Everyone gaped--though Lucca seemed to be gaping for some other reason.  
  
"Jeez Louise, what a hunk." said Lucca, confirming the reason.  
  
Glenn looked dazed a moment, then promptly fell over.  
  
"Uh, it takes a while to get used to the balance..." Alfador brightened. "I wanna hug everyone again!"  
  
"No thank you." said Magus through his teeth.  
  
"I'm... human..?" Glenn stared at his hands. That really didn't help, because they were gloved. He removed one, just to be sure. His hand was white--probably from too much glove wearing.  
  
"Does this mean I'm getting petted?" said Alfador.  
  
"Ah... no." said Glenn. "Thank you..."  
  
"Eh...?" Alfador glanced over her shoulder to look for the person he was talking to, then shrugged. "I just didn't want to bend over to hug ya. I've a bad back... too much bowing, probably."  
  
"You do bow a lot." said Schala, smiling.  
  
Alfador look startled, then bowed on one knee before her Princess. "My apologies... I'm too informal. Your orders, Hime-sama?"  
  
Schala knit her blue eyebrows. "First, don't do that."  
  
"Done!"  
  
"Second..." she looked wistful. "...bring me my brother."  
  
"Done!"  
  
"Eh...?"  
  
"It hast been a long day..." Glenn interrupted, having recovered and now in a very charitable mood. "Perhaps we should confront our new tasks in the morn...?"  
  
Crono smiled, since he was almost always in a charitable mood. "I second that! I can't wait to hit the sack..."  
  
"I think I'll stay up." said Schala. "Sleep is very... uh..."  
  
"I took the song off, didn't I?"  
  
"Humans need to talk to people, Alfie." said Schala. "And, besides you, the dreams don't seem very talkative..."  
  
"Odd, I can never seem to get them to shut up. Ah, I know! They all like and respect you."  
  
"That's nice to know." Her face still held that lonesome smile. She turned to look out the window, perhaps so she could let it go.  
  
They each cleaned up and went to bed. Alfador changed back to cat form, but for some strange reason no one seemed inclined to let her sleep on their feet tonight. So, Schala pet her absentmindedly, staring out the window, eyes on the stars.  
  
  
  
Notes: I've changed Chrono Trigger's plot up to this point a bit--namely, Alfador leaves Zeal with the group and guides them around. She helps out by, say, pushing certain switches at Ozzie's fort and other such stuff. It wasn't enough of a difference for me to bother typing up. She's good for moral support, too. I chose to make Alfador a girl 'cause originally she and Doreen were to be the same person. And yes I know I'm contradicting Chrono Cross and I don't care. ^_^; Also, since I'm an otaku I'll be using a lil Japanese, but I'll put the meanings at the end. In this chapter, -sama means Lord or Lady (it's an honorific denoting high respect) and hime means princess. I suppose I coulda just said Princess-sama or my lady princess, but it's more fun this way. Ki is fighting/life force. Use the force, Luka! Er, bad joke... 


	3. Cute or a Complete Disaster

  
"Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man." --Henry Adams  
  
  
  
In the land of Truce, 1000 A.D., beautiful and simply sparkling with bright, primary colors, the dawn awoke on the promise of a soap opera.  
  
Something about the squirrels was squirrelly-er. Birds seemed to hop more with expectation. Crono woke up at a reasonable hour. Magus actually seemed to be sleeping--lying down while doing it, no less.  
  
The gang gathered around, waking themselves. Crono was falling asleep standing up. Marle paced. Lucca wiped at her glasses with a viciousness. The others, although seeming edgy, were trying to ignore it.  
  
Glenn, for example, was examining himself in a mirror, and had been as long as anyone had been awake. He turned his face this way and that and brought his face up until he fogged up the mirror, wrinkling his green eyebrows over his green eyes.  
  
He stood back. "I hath aged all this while--my hair hast even grown longer. Perhaps I should cut it."  
  
"No," answered the girls, not looking up.  
  
"She hast changed my clothes as well," added Glenn to himself, not noticing. "I wonder wherefore went the old ones...? I am not sure I like wearing the Masamune over my shoulder."  
  
Glenn rubbed his face, which was drawn together in contemplation.  
  
"I don't think I know how to shave," he said.  
  
They collectively facefaulted.  
  
"You... don't...?" said Marle, sweatdropping.  
  
"'Twas but twelve years old when transformed..." He grunted at himself. "I hast missed much. I wonder how my parents are doing..."  
  
"Good grief," said Crono. "Anyway, I'll show you how to shave... though it's kinda weird. You are older than me."  
  
"Many thanks," said Glenn, wondering if he'd still be able to do Slurp Kiss and what the heck it would look like.  
  
The girls watched them shave for a while, nervously.  
  
"What do you think will happen with Magus and Schala?" said Marle.  
  
"I dunno," Lucca swung her feet back and forth. "I think... it'll either be really cute or a complete disaster."  
  
"Ayla no see problem. Magus sad, sister make Magus happy."  
  
"Well, I don't think Magus knows how to be happy..." said Lucca. "I think he might react badly to it."  
  
"Badly to being happy?" said Ayla. "Magus have big stick up butt, but--"  
  
"He's got to be happy!" said Marle. "Everyone deserves to be happy. Frog... Glenn is human again, so it's not like there's still anything to hold against him."  
  
"Cyrus still be dead." said Glenn quietly, from the sink.  
  
"I'm sure it's very relaxing!" said Alfador, popping in and nearly making Glenn shave off his nose.  
  
"Alfador, please," said Glenn, inspecting his cut. "'Tis not a matter for amusement."  
  
"But I was there," said Alfador. "Cyrus seemed pretty happy. He didn't even mention Janasu-sama, he only cared about your welfare." She wagged a finger at him. "You should've brought Janasu--then you would've seen, he'd probably not even notice."  
  
"I do not find that appropriate." said Glenn. "Magus sent Cyrus to his grave, he need not visit."  
  
Alfador sat down cross-legged on the bed, looking irritable.  
  
"What does it matter? Cyrus is happy, Magus will be happy, you can be happy, we'll all be happy." Crono smiled weakly.  
  
"You're always happy," said Lucca. "What are you on?"  
  
Crono looked hurt.  
  
"In any case, it dost not matter." Glenn wiped his face with a towel. "Magus shall return to his time, I to mine, thee to thine--our business with Lavos is done."  
  
"You're really going back to your own time, Frog?" Marle said. "We're going to miss you so much..."  
  
"Well, of course, we knew it was only temporary." Lucca adjusted her glasses.  
  
"Ayla chief of village, must return. Kino good, but not strong."  
  
Glenn nodded. "And, of course, I have my duty to Queen Leene. Lady Schala and Magus have their people in the Dark Ages. They shall need all the help they may acquire, now that Zeal hath fallen."  
  
"I doubt it," said Alfador. "The weather's warming up and after that whole fiasco they'll be a lot more peace-minded for a while. It'll be nice for a few decades at least."  
  
"What were you planning on doing, Alfador?" said Marle.  
  
"I am an object created to protect King Zeal's loved ones. I go where they go."  
  
"An ...object?" said Lucca. "You sound like Robo when we first found him. Calling everyone 'sama' and such. You really don't have to."  
  
"Yeah, it's kinda weird..." said Crono.  
  
"Schala-sama already tried to talk me out of it, so don't bother." Alfador grinned. Glenn had jitterly turned back to his reflection. "This way I must undo the shoulder strap before I may unsheathe the Masamune. 'Tis not good for emergencies."  
  
"Fine, Your Green-hair-ed-ness! I'll take you clothes shopping. We need groceries too, so might as well." Alfador ran out the door, catching Glenn's arm on the way. "At least I won't get caught in the explosion..."  
  
"Eh?" Ayla addressed the retreating backs. "Something go boom?"  
  
"Yeah," said Lucca, looking very serious with the effort of trying to see around the hole she had rubbed into her glasses. "This is the quiet; the storm is coming..."  
  
"They're brother and sister!" said Marle. "They ought to get together and be happy. We have to tell her."  
  
"I think Magus hates us enough already." said Crono.  
  
"We'd be doing him a favor!"  
  
"By the time you've argued the point to him, he'll have casted Dark Matter and it'll be a moot point." said Lucca. "We ought to stay out of it."  
  
Marle crossed her arms. She partially uncrossed one and zipped her pendant back and forth on its chain. "WELL THEN!"  
  
Schala flinched slightly, bringing attention to where she stood leaning against the doorway. She yawned. "Ohayo gozaimasu."  
  
"OHAYO!" they chorused.  
  
Schala flinched again. Everyone looked very... happy. That sort of strained, frightening happy.  
  
"I shouldn't have stayed up so late...mmmm... ah, where's Alfador? I didn't bring anything with me, so usually she transforms my clothes in the mornings."  
  
"Cat lady just leave." said Ayla.  
  
"With Frog." said Robo.  
  
"They're going clothes shopping." said Lucca.  
  
"Isn't that convenient?" said Marle.  
  
Crono nodded.  
  
"Ah.... yes." Schala looked them over again. "I'll... just... catch up with them then."  
  
She bolted.  
  
There was a collective sigh of relief.  
  
"I do not understand this phenomenom, but I too am starting to feel... affected." said Robo.  
  
"Crazy people make people crazy." Ayla observed.  
  
Shortly thereafter and by a great coincidence, Magus awoke and dashed off to parts unknown.  
  
  
  
Notes: Wow, what a waste of a chapter! But so much fun, ne? Ohayo (and ohayo gozaimasu) mean good morning. The longer one's a bit more polite. And I'm still spelling things wrong for pronounciation. ^_^ Don't ask me why Alfador says Janasu instead of Janus... I know it looks kinda weird, but that's what is in my head, so that's what's going down on paper. 


	4. There Was a Small

"To die, to sleep;   
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;   
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come   
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,   
Must give us pause"  
--Hamlet  
  
  
  
"Ahh, look how jealous everyone is of me!" Alfador gripped poor Glenn's arm tighter, grinning and pretending to laugh at amusing remarks he wasn't making. Glenn was trying to juggle a new wardrobe and their groceries in his free hand. He was now sporting a nice new Medieval style outfit, complete with armor, helmet, the Masamune on its proper position at his right hip and a large question mark at its proper position directly above his head.  
  
"Whyfore dost thou--" said Glenn, before being interrupted by more fake laughter from Alfador. He sighed and gave up on it.  
  
"Alfiiiiieee---"  
  
"Un? Schala-sama?"  
  
Schala jogged up to them and bent over, catching her breath. She obviously wasn't used to jogging.  
  
"You should rest, Schala-sama. Perhaps I should carry you--"  
  
"That really is unneccessary, Alfie." Schala smiled, standing up straight again. "Princesses aren't made of glass, you know."  
  
"Yeah, they're made out of sugar and spice and everything nice." Alfador caught her chin in her hand. "Although I never did understand that. I'm made of Dreamstone, anyway..."  
  
"I need to do some clothes shopping. I see you've already done yours." Schala smiled at Glenn, making him squirm slightly. "It was hard finding you."  
  
"Oh, you like my new look?" Alfador posed. "I think it's very modern!"  
  
"You look... ah..." She tried not to look too harsh. "...like Lucca..."  
  
"Well, Marle's outfits aren't as domestic, y'see, and Crono... well, he wears guy clothes. At least I guess those are guy clothes..."  
  
"Yes... I recall Father wearing something similar..."  
  
"You're right!" Alfador caught Schala by the arm and dragged them both to the nearest clothes store. "Of course, your father always was a bit odd."  
  
"That's why he made you, if I recall."  
  
"YES!"  
  
Glenn's squirming had progressed to fidgeting to an all out, no holds barred attempt to free himself. Perhaps giving up was the wrong choice and running like hell was the correct one.  
  
  
***  
  
In Truce, there was no convenient, lonely cape to stand upon. There were no dramatic castles, cathedrals or, well, dramatic buildings of any kind. Magus took to standing at the end of the dock, examining the water, letting the breeze wave his cape dramatically, hoping the fish smell wouldn't stick in his hair.  
  
To have spent his whole life for this... it would have been one thing to emerge from the shadows at the dramatic key moment and slay Lavos, staving off the certain doom that awaited his sister and announcing himself to be her brother among the afterglow of victory--funny, that seemed really stupid now. He must have come up with it when he was still Janus, before the world had hardened him, and forgot to change his views.  
  
"I go up to her and say, 'Schala, I'm not Magus, I'm not a prophet, not even a false one. I'm your brother. I've been looking for you for so long I've gone insane and I hope you'll take that into account and forgive me for... everything.'"  
  
Magus swallowed.  
  
"I go up to her and say, 'I know I've been nothing but trouble to you... well, to everyone. But I am sorry. I am... I don't know what to do. But I am sorry.'"  
  
  
"'I guess it's really too much to ask you to forgive me... I'd like to hope you don't hate me... you said not to hate mother, so....?'"  
  
He daren't even whisper the words; he was mouthing them.  
  
"'I go up to her and say..."  
  
"Janasu-sama!"  
  
Magus turned and waited for Alfador to run down the length of the dock. It occurred to him that she could have just appeared beside him instantly. If he were still Janus, she would have.  
  
"We're eating dinner, Janasu-sama." She twirled. "You like my new outfit?"  
  
He stared. "You look like an idiot groundling."  
  
"Ah, good! I fit in!" She grinned so widely Magus had to feel just a bit better. Maybe it was the idea of her fitting in. She had bright violet hair that almost swept the ground, gemlike eyes and unnatural energy. If she ever managed fit in, it probably meant she'd gone insane.  
  
Magus swept back to the sea, staring out across it. So many years had passed--for the world, but not for he--since he had stood like this, gazing out across the sea in contemplation. That was when he was bereft of everything. Now he had gained what was most important back. Hadn't he?  
  
He'd taken it for granted that Schala was his sister and Alfador was his cat. Nothing would change that. But, when that was true, he'd been just a boy. Snotty, but not evil. Now that he was an adult he had to face the fact that they were both adults as well. He couldn't expect their unquestioning devotion. He wasn't sure he could even give it.  
  
"Janasu-sama? Dinner?" That's right, he'd forgotten about her. Her presence was no greater than that of any other person until she wished it to be.  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Janasu-sama, don't be so anti-social! And... well, I can't say I'm afraid you'll get skinny, goodness, where did you get all that beef... but still, you ought to eat!"  
  
He glanced over his shoulder. She had her hands on her hips and was tapping her foot. He didn't recall her being so much of a school teacher, but then he had only know her as a human for a few weeks. Perhaps she didn't need to act it when she towered over him; now she could perhaps--by someone with poor eyesight, he supposed--be taken as someone normal.  
  
He moved from the edge of the dock, past her. "Let's go."  
  
  
***  
  
  
Magus was conspiciously absent from dinner that night; not that he ever ate with them, but tonight his absence was as conspicious as light's absence from a cave.  
  
Dinner was quiet. Schala was trying to decide for herself why Alfador was so obviously avoiding the subject of her brother. She would say "Don't worry, it's been taken care of, just wait." Alfador was also absent from the dinner table.  
  
Perhaps Janus was abducted to Sleep as well? There seemed to be no end to that place. Although the dreams felt comfortable in it, Schala could not help but worry that some day she would wander into that giant darkness and never find her way out. There was more than enough room for a small, skinny Zealian boy. But why continue to hide him? Could there be some danger outside of Sleep that might still threaten him?  
  
There was no explanation she could form that did not worry her. For this reason, glad as she was to be in the real world again, she could not make herself relax for even a moment.  
  
It did not help that she seemed to be casting a gloom over the others. They could try to ignore their anxiety, but they could not ignore her figure at the end of the table, pretending to eat and lost in her own thoughts. In an effort they were being, if possible, more loud than they usually were.  
  
  
There was a small "crick."  
  
They halted mid-sentance, casting a sudden silence. All of them at once started looking for the source of the small noise. Perhaps they'd imagined--  
  
"My pendant..." Marle cupped it in her hands, staring at it with disbelief. "It... it's cracked..."  
  
  
***  
  
Magus had led them into Guardia Forest. It was easy enough to get lost in if you strayed from the main paths and was far away enough from everything, in this spot, to be undisturbed. He wasn't quite sure why he had brought Alfador; perhaps because he knew she would follow anyway.  
  
He leaned against a tree, quietly. Somewhere to his right Alfador had tamed a hetake and was petting it.  
  
He was so in dread of the moment of Schala finding out, he considered for the moment the idea of letting Alfador--no, perhaps someone with tact--tell her instead. But he was just as quickly filled with the dread of that moment he next saw her, afterwards.  
  
He was a fool and he knew it. To strive for this for how long--and now, to finally reach his goal and run from it. What did he have to be ashamed of? He'd made all his decisions with her in mind...  
  
Still, he knew, somewhere, that they weren't the decisions Schala would have had in mind.  
  
He turned back to Alfador, who was kneeling with her back to him, and again he hesitated. Now here was the ultimate testimony of his stupidity. Worrying what an object designed to protect him thought of him. It didn't matter what she thought of him any more than a sword should care who it killed.  
  
He barked her name, expecting her to jump, but she gave no response. A few more attempts, and he walked haughtily over to her, kneeling beside her suddenly as he caught her expression.  
  
He had seen this expression on her once, but not as a human. When he was sucked into the time gate, away from everything he knew, the last thing he saw was a small purple cat charging at him with that expression on her face.  
  
That sort of blank... surprise... surprise and horror...  
  
Her hand was frozen on the hetake's back and the creature was growing nervous. Her mouth was opened slightly, slackened in the manner of sleep or death.  
  
When talking didn't work, he yelled. When yelling didn't work, he shook her. When shaking didn't work, he just held her at arm's length, a hand clenched around each shoulder, studying her expression for any change. He stood there, tensed, his world dissolving except for his sight, his sight dissolving except for his ability to detect movement and that last sense concentrated so tightly on her face that, were she a normal person, it would have found any number of random twitchings and slight movements. But she was a dream; once her mind had left her body, it seemed a mere model of a living form.  
  
It reminded him frighteningly of the way Crono was when they saved him, locked in that tight moment, that endless second, with a look like this one on his face.  
  
Finally all in one moment her conscious snapped back into her form and collapsed, one hand clawing into his arm for support.  
  
"Doreen..."  
  
  
Notes: People, the plot has hit the fan. What I have so far of the next chapter scares me, and that's never a--well, actually, some time it is. We'll see.  
  
I kinda like how this series' theme is the quotes. I never use quotes or write songfics. Then again, I usually don't title fics bizzare Latin things that I don't understand, either.  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Philly the Silly Willy, for it is his b-day present.  



	5. The Era of Dreams is Over

"Reality is the best possible cure for dreams."  
  
--Roger Starr  
  
"Like Skywalker, gotta big hunch. Hey, that's my lunch. Yoda's a really, really old guy. Gonna get a set a' better clubs. Gonna find the kind with tiny nubs, just so my irons aren't always flying off the back-swing," Doreen bopped, her short silver hair trailing. With Schala gone, her odd choice in music and her singing had both returned. "Gotta get in tune with Sailor Moon 'cause the cartoon has got the boom, anime babes that make me think the wrong thing--"  
  
"...I don't even understand half of what she says anymore." said Masa.  
  
"I need to slice something. Wind slash! WHOOSH!" said Mune.  
  
"Urge to squish... rising..." added Epoch.  
  
The place known as Sleep had no formal definitions. The inhabitants shaped it to their will, and since none of the dreams had any human predilections, it remained mostly void. Doreen's vicinity was always marked by odd reflections of other worlds that the others' could not identify, and that Doreen never bothered to place. Because of this, it was completely impossible to gauge her sanity at any point.  
  
She hopped from one foot to another, her hems trailing. She slowed on the next hop, catching the flare of an odd identity. Had Alfie brought Schala back--?  
  
Mid-step the blow caught her. Sliced from collarbone to hip, her severed right arm disappeared into red dust before it hit the ground. The edge of the wound looked almost like red gelatin--but that was a human impression. A more astute, less biased eye would have compared it to laser-cut ruby.  
  
It matched the stranger's hair and eyes. He smiled.   
  
"Your duty is fulfilled. The era of dreams is over."  
  
The smile was promptly cut off along with both his arms--from twin slices from twin blades. Masa and Mune shook the red dust off and matched stances again.  
  
"Doreen!" Alfador's arms caught her sister from behind and threw her into the void, away from the fight. Turning back, she barely dodged a stroke from the monster, who had healed himself and seemed to have barely youthened.  
  
"Pay attention to US!" chorused the twins, attacking from opposite sides. To quiet them, the stranger caught Mune and smacked Masa away with him.  
  
"Fall back!" yelled Alfador before disappearing into the void with Trigger in her arms.  
  
Masa and Mune looked up from where they were piled like puppies, only just catching the red glint of eyes growing near. Mune raised his sword to block, but the eyes fell short.  
  
Epoch, youngest but strongest, had caught an ankle. With a gigantic heave, the stranger joined the sky. By the time he recovered, the dreams were nowhere in sight.  
  
***  
  
Alfador turned on Magus, catching him by the collar.  
  
"She's broken! We distracted him but--!"  
  
He gave her one hard shake to knock the terror out of her eyes before it could infect him. He then let her go on at a slower pace.  
  
"Someone... someone... someone's in Sleep! He... he attacked out of nowhere, he... he broke her easily, he... we distracted! We distracted him but.... Doreen's not a fighter but... he broke her." She whispered the last words at him, horrified. "He must be a dream, no one brought him into sleep, and... and..."  
  
"But he can't be..." Her voice was soft as a light breeze and her train of thought was just as fickle. "He can't... he used .... he used his powers, we can't... do... we can't, not in Sleep!"  
  
Her voice had reached panic again, and he started dragging her towards the others, eyebrows firmly knit, his mind methodically going over all he knew about dreams.  
  
So far as he know, only the Kingdom of Zeal had ever created dreams. They were simply what they were named: dreams made flesh. The rare dream stone could be crafted to a shape and infused with a person's power and their intent, were both strong enough. The rock would then fulfill its duty depending on how strong the skill, power and intent of its creator were.  
  
The only ones who had ever managed it were the royalty and the gurus of Zeal. Even then, Melchior had to make his dream in two parts, resting in between, in order to get the job done.  
  
Now that Zeal had fallen, the method of creating dreams should have fallen as well.  
  
But if it had not--the only person with the power to fix a broken dream was its original creator. Of the dream's five creators, two were still alive.  
  
***  
  
Magus hastily explained things to the group while Alfador clung to Schala, disappearing headlong into the her long, blue hair. He had not quite finished when he was interrupted by the tell-tale shattering of time which heralded Epoch's appearance. The ship cast a dark shadow over them, and begun to land despite the lack of room--but mid-way it disappeared. Their eyes, blinking into the sudden light, caught on a young man with golden hair and angel's wings, instead.  
  
"Nee-chan!" The figure folded his wings and bolted straight for Marle, snatching the pendant from her. The group stared at him, jolted out of their silence by Alfador's voice.  
  
"Everyone, human forms!"  
  
That was all it took. The group was used to oddness, the unbelievable, the spirit world, even. But their cherished objects jumping from their hands and into human form--that was a bit much for anyone. Alfador took a moment to name everyone--Doreen, Masa, Mune, Trigger and Epoch.  
  
"He's still there," Alfador said, her voice cold. "He's still in Sleep. He can find any of us at any moment, there'd be nothing we could do."  
  
"We should fight him!" said Masa, now whole and an adult with green hair.  
  
"We were made to fight!" added Mune, his twin but in blue.  
  
"You barely survived the last time," Alfador said.  
  
"We can risk Masa and Mune," said Magus. "Melchior's still alive to fix them. The same is true of the Chrono Trigger--"  
  
"Trigger-kun's useless. He's already been shattered to nothing by Crono's revival." Alfador picked up the infant Trigger, swathing him in his long hair.  
  
"My being brought back... did that to him?" Crono stared at the child, who was gurgling, untouched.  
  
"When we are broken, we take the power of the largest piece... he was shattered into such tiny pieces... but he's alive, because you all believe in him."  
  
One figure stood alone, identifiable at a glance by the skin tone she had adopted, a dark one from another world. She looked up for the first time. She was a young teenager now, irreparable because of Queen Zeal's death.  
  
"He said the era of dreams was over." Doreen's appearance, although youthful, was that of a wingless butterfly. "...no need for dreams in the world anymore."  
  
"What?!" Epoch's wings mantled. "He wants to get rid of us all?"  
  
"Wouldn't he go after us then?" Magus' strict, deep voice for once had a calming, rather than a frightening effect. "The only way you can be destroyed is by destroying us, isn't it?"  
  
Marle started. "Why--why would anyone--?!"  
  
Alfador smiled softly. "You all believe in us..."  
  
"We can't remove ourselves from Sleep entirely... eventually he'll find us." said Doreen. "We have to attack first."  
  
"That's our job!" said Masa.  
  
Mune nodded rapidly.  
  
"....I should probably go too," said Epoch. "I'm not a fighter, but I should be pretty strong."  
  
"Hold on a moment!" Crono stepped forward. "Aren't you forgetting something? We battled Lavos, whoever this guy is, we can take him!"  
  
The dreams looked at him sadly for a moment.  
  
"Humans don't have any power in Sleep." said Doreen.  
  
"Unless he decides to come out here and attack you, there's nothing you can do." Alfador was bent, her hair, tied up though it was, managing to obscure her face. "We can't even use our special abilities in Sleep, so we have to hope that we have more pure power than this guy..."  
  
"...why..." Alfador was barely heard. "...why would a dream want to rid the world of dreams? Who could've made him... who would've... why?"  
  
"If this is his entire purpose, his ability may be to use his dream abilities in Sleep."  
  
Alfador raised her head to Magus, eyes wide.  
  
"We're going to take care of this, Alfador." Magus' eyes were cold. "We'll find the creator and put a stop to this right now."  
  
Alfador brushed her hair away, eyes glistening with what couldn't possibly be tears. Dreams didn't cry. She wiped them away nonetheless, smiling. "Janasu-sama..."  
  
The world silenced, then screeched to a halt as they processed that.  
  
"Ack! Janasu-sama, I'm so sorry," Alfador was on her knees, bowing rapidly to the ground. "I didn't mean to! I just forgot, it's your name and-- and-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear, I just didn't--"  
  
"Get up, Alfador." He sighed heavily. "It's not your fault. Just a matter of time, in any case."  
  
"So that's why..." Schala smiled softly. She had not been smiling a moment ago, but Alfador's antics covered that. Schala was inclined to wonder if that were purposeful, but she let it go. "I'm glad you're safe, Janus. But... we have to take care of our kingdom's children now."  
  
Magus and the dreams raised an eyebrow at that. The dreams owed their loyalty to their creators--not vice versa. But Schala was just the sort of person to see everything topsy-turvy.  
  
Fortunately, the world's saviors were just the sort of people who would agree.  
  
***  
  
His crimson mohawk and its trailing tail swayed left and right as he trudged. It was not a tired trudge, a trudge through swamp or sticky ground. It was the mechanized trudge of a toy robot, slow but exact. His footsteps beat out the time; he had all the time he could possibly need. His bared hands tightened around the axe already shimmering with red dust. His loose pants coiled and uncoiled to his motions. His uncovered muscles relaxed and contracted as if they were real.  
  
There was an S carved in sharp angles on his belt. He was still smiling.  
  
Notes: The song is "One Week" by Bare Naked Ladies. "Nee-chan" is a familiar way of saying older sister. If you're finding the dreams' powers at all confusing, this would be a good time to read "In Sleep." My apologies for the lack of the original cast in this chapter, but 'twas necessary. 


	6. The Scream of Swords

"Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly."  
--Excerpt from "To Kill A Mockingbird" by Harper Lee  
  
  
They went to the End of Time in three shifts. They hoped somehow that Gaspar would be able to help them, as he had before. Alfador stayed in human form, clutching her head. She avoided the End of Time as much as possible--it was her ability to know the past and present. Where no such things existed, all the information of the universe collided inside her mind.  
  
"My word..." said Gaspar, petting his own dream, Trigger, who cooed in his arms. "Why would someone want to destroy the dreams? Like any tools, they have a function so long as they have masters."  
  
"Gaspar-sama..." Alfador winced at her own words, "Could a dream use his special abilities in Sleep?"  
  
"Sleep... sleep is much like this place." He indicated the void. "It is a concept more than anything. You have different forms, and when you change forms, the extra space must go somewhere... somewhere like here, or like Sleep."  
  
"That's why we can't get away from it," said Masa.  
  
"One of our other bodies is always there," said Mune.  
  
"Right now, we're human..."  
  
"So, in Sleep, we're a sword."  
  
"We knew that!" said Epoch crossly. He kept glancing at his eldest sister, who was silent.  
  
"It is possible that someone in Zeal feared that the dreams would gain new masters... as you have. In that case, they may have created another dream as a precaution. Set to act in this case, there's no reason there couldn't be a dream built specifically for the purposes of being able to defeat all of you. As your experience points out, he'd only need the use of his special abilities when you cannot use yours."  
  
"We be quite acquainted with the features of each of our dreams," said Glenn, "The abilities of this dream would be--?"  
  
"I cannot say," said Gaspar. "But if that truly is his purpose, I fear there is no way you can combat him. Unless... unless of course you find his form on Earth."  
  
"Ayla find odd red man, Ayla break stone!"  
  
"Parameters too wide," said Robo. "More data required. Who would have done this?"  
  
"I do not know." Gaspar shook his head sadly.  
  
"If anyone in Zeal were doing this, I would've known!" said Schala.  
  
"Or I," added Magus. "I recall Masa and Mune's construction. It is not an easy task. I would have noticed if someone of such power were so drained."  
  
Lucca pushed her glasses up her nose. "Someone not from Zeal, then? Someone who found the knowledge...? But where to look... It's nearly 13,000 years between Zeal and the Middle Ages... We can't reach it, but the knowledge of Zeal was lost within that time, it must be then."  
  
"Wonderful. 13,000 years. We'll just have tea while we wait." Magus stared coldly at her.  
  
"Minna-sama no baka..."  
  
Surprised, they turned as one. Alfador was half kneeling, hands clawing at her hair.  
  
"I...nngh, I know everything, remember? Just get me there..."  
  
And that was it. They were off to 600 AD, all the dreams on the first load, Magus, Schala and Glenn with them. In the time it took Alfador to recover, Epoch disappeared, reappeared, dropping off Crono, Marle and Lucca. Then once again--  
  
The scream of swords that always heralded Epoch's arrival sounded a lot less like swords, a lot more like screams. His one trip around the world went a bit over, metal screeching, rudders breaking off, stripped white and gold paint falling in tatters behind like confetti. Watching from the ground, they could not believe it. There was no great explosion, no black smoke. They rushed to the scene, Marle healing the ravaged bodies of Ayla and Robo with an equally ravaged look. Lucca went searching for parts of Robo that had been thrown a distance and needed to be put back on. And, in the middle, apparently unaware of the wreckage, was a young boy with golden hair, wet feathers nestling at his back where his wings had been ripped off. He had been cut into halves, fourths, hacked at while he held onto his passengers for dear life, until Masa and Mune appeared out of nowhere and cut the stranger into fourths himself.  
  
"This is it, we can't get home..." Crono just stared at the child as Doreen quietly came forward and picked him up. Epoch smiled and hugged her.  
  
"I'll fix it." Lucca's voice was gravel as she made two separate piles for Robo's and Epoch's parts.  
  
"The only one who can fix a dream is its maker." Magus spat on the ground. He was stuck with them.  
  
"I said I'll fix it. I'll make my own dream if I have to." Lucca's voice left no room for doubt. Pulling herself out of the rock she'd been imbedded into, Ayla gave Lucca a quiet, questioning glance.  
  
"Ayla can no go back... Ayla has failed tribe..." Ayla lowered herself to the ground, accepting pieces of Schala's outfit in replacement for her shredded fur.  
  
Glenn helped Lucca with the heavier parts, his sympathy infinite. They were all lost but he--then again, he realized with a jolt, Marle was here. He too had failed.  
  
"Did you hear me? I'll fix it."  
  
"That's pointless..." Alfador was playing with Epoch's hair absent-mindedly. "He's not here. He's not in the past... and the knowledge has already been lost. There's nothing... no dream stone in use that's big enough, that I don't know about, nothing I've missed in any of it--"  
  
She buried her face among her little brother's and her sister's. It was awfully painful to be Miss Know It All. It always seemed like the most important thing was that which could not be known.  
  
"We've lost."  
  
  
***  
  
  
Gaspar was still mulling it over in his head after they left. He filtered time and space for his own and other's memories. Here, where it made no difference, anyone could be Alfador, if they were willing to lose their mind. Their journey, before and after, the world they came from, the world they made, the problems they solved and the new ones created--to be solved by others in time. None of it told him what he wanted to know.  
  
"No more dreams, eh...?"  
  
And there was the description. Dreams could assume any form, but they always had a color. It was one thing they could not hide--as he looked into the past, he chuckled at Schala with Alfador's wild violet hair. Of course it seemed obvious from here. Then, it could have been a trick of the light.  
  
"Red... crimson... dream stone..."  
  
His thoughts settled, memories no longer flicking up like flames, but glowing like embers. He fell asleep.  
  
He snored for a moment, a bubble forming from his nose and growing with his breath, until finally, it popped. Startled, he raised his head.  
  
"You don't suppose...?!"  
  
But it was far too late. They had taken their only means of escape along with them ... and crashed it.  
  
  
--  
AN: I didn't make you wait long enough for this one, but oh well. "Minna-sama no baka" translates as, well... "Your Lord and Ladyships are idiots." It's such an Alfador line. Please review! 


	7. Randomly Breaking Things

"We all dream; we do not understand our dreams, yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake."   
-Erich Fromm

_They had conquered time, they had conquered death. _

No, no they hadn't. Others had created the objects, and those objects that held the power of time and death in their hands were left safe at the castle, curled up together, having their nap.

Crono hacked away at the earth with a vengeance.

"Thou hast no faith in lady Lucca?"

"What makes you say that?" Crono heaved the dirt over his shoulder, creating a frenzied cloud behind himself.

"Thou slaughters the sediment."

Crono panted, leaning on his shovel. He could feel gravel on his scalp.

"You're one to speak. You're digging like there's candy at the bottom."

Glenn raised an eyebrow at that, but it was true that he had worked himself up to a sweat and was not stopping, even now. A little ahead of them, Alfador was sprawled on a rock. She lazily balanced one pebble on another. 

"'s a bit to the right."

"How close be the Dream Stone, now?"

"A day's digging away, Glenn-sama." Her eyes were half-lidded, scowling in a sort of casual way.

"Would take me a second." she muttered.

"You--" Grunt. "Should be resting."

"But I don't get tired, Crono-sama!"

The dreams were trying to hide their presence, using their power as little as possible. This was difficult for Alfador, who called up the map of the universe to remember where she left her keys. She seemed not to understand the concept of a personal memory at all. It was harder on the twins, though; the idea of sitting still made them twitch. They had started randomly breaking things and were kicked out of the palace yesterday.

"I thought you only found dream stone way back in time."

"It doesn't go anywhere, Crono-sama. Well, it does, but it's still there. I don't know what you think you're going to do with it, though. If a human lost a limb, you wouldn't try wrapping hamburger to the stump--"

"Alfador! 'Tis no need to be vulgar."

"I'm just making an analogy, Glenn-sama."

At least they had all managed to find something to distract them. Lucca had finished on Robo yesterday, despite lack of tools. Today, she and Robo were piecing together Epoch's hull, much to his interest.

"What pretty lady and tin man doing?"

Lucca smiled tiredly at the little boy. He was holding Trigger and sucking at the tail end of the long brown hair.

"We're going to fix you up and make it all better, all right?"

Epoch tilted his head to the side. "Kisses?"

"He requires affection?" Robo beeped, adding the data to his banks. He took a personal interest in the dreams.

"Yes, kisses, hon."

"....my daddy was a big eggplant."

Ayla was hauling metal for Lucca, and the rest had gathered with the dreams, trying to see if there was any means of action.

"Stop doing that, you imbecile. You're only wasting magic."

Marle glared at Magus, her hands still cupped around her neck. She had been feeding her pendant soft healing energies for an hour, to no effect. But there was no one who could tell her she was to be useless in all this.

"Please, Janus, we're in this together..." Schala's voice was soft. "But, I'm afraid he is right. A dream won't be healed that way."

Marle finally let go of Doreen, slamming her open hand on the table. "Who would have done this?!"

"Alfador can be trusted to know the past," said Magus, ignoring Marle's outburst. "Perhaps the knowledge was rediscovered in the far future."

"We saw the future, they couldn't find their own noses."

"That was the old future, _princess,_" Perhaps Magus would refrain from insults in Schala's presence; that did not make him any less insulting. "We have never visited the new future. Nor has Alfador. She could not have known."

"The new future...?" Schala physically stepped between the two. "What happened to the old future?"

Magus snorted. "Destroyed."

"Wrooong, smarty pants. Never was." Marle stuck out her tongue.

Magus had a hand on his scythe when Schala blocked his target from his vision, her face close and questioning.

"You've been somewhere that never was?" 

"You're telling me someone did this because we _created_ them?"

Marle attached herself to Crono. "Er, in a way."

"It's very logical, from a programmer's point of view." Lucca tapped her cheek, eyes up in thought.

Crono and Glenn had just returned with sore muscles, slightly softened nerves and as much dream stone as they could carry. It had been nice to be lost in the counter-contemplation of pure hard work, for a while. This was going to be difficult.

"Explain that again?" Crono scratched his head, finding a few more pieces of dirt.

Glenn looked clueless. "A programmer's--?"

Lucca nodded. "A switch."

"She feels the need to translate it into her native language," Magus leaned against the wall like a loaded rifle, "Techno-babble."

"Look, that's just the easiest way of understanding it. A ruined world means no new technology, means no new dreams. By saving the world, we flipped the switch. A prosperous future means progress, means the possibility of new dreams. I'm just adding in a creationist view."

"....Ayla did know, Ayla no know now."

"We came up with this, and I have no idea what you're talking about." said Marle.

"Look, we had this discussion, right? That it felt like we were being guided by someone--I mean, apart from you, Alfador. Like all this happened because someone wanted it to. And, from that perspective, this dream makes sense. He insures that ... well, he prevents bugs. Er. Things that weren't apart of the creator's plan."

"Worse and worse," Glenn shook his head. "Unreachable foes in the void, coupled with mysterious unknown beings."

"That doesn't matter. While you're going on about invisible bogeymen, we're losing time." Magus got up and paced, his cape swirling in a wake behind him. "He was created in the future. We're in the past, we can prevent it."

"Ayla want find stranger." She smacked her fist against her palm, grinning. "Ayla make big hole in rock. Stranger be bigger hole."

"We could use up all the dream stone!" Crono thumped the rock. "No dream stone, no new dreams! ...but then, if we were wrong..."

"How could we be wrong?" Lucca had grown annoyed; no one was paying her any mind.

"There are no other options." said Robo.

"There are many options." 

The soft voice floated by them, unfamiliar and hard to catch. They searched the room with their eyes before alighting upon Doreen, observing from the corner. They were sure she hadn't been there before, because she was wearing Trigger on her head like a hat, his hair combed over his face so that she seemed to have his hair and a massive skull. Which was giggling.

"They could be somewhere else. They could be upwhere, downwhere, sideways, byways, they are here, there, they are nowhere and everywhere."

They stared at her in silence.

"Erm," said Alfador, "She's never made sense."

"I make perfect sense, you are the blind, I the one-eyed octopus." Their attention was starting to flicker; she raised her voice. "Dreams live outside of time, outside of time. If you prevent the creation of the one who has broken us, we will be broken just the same."

Their faces were varying degrees of incredulity.

"But... that doesn't make any sense!" Marle's hand reached to zip her pendent on its chain and groped blindly a moment.

"It makes perfect sense," said Doreen. "It's just that you're blind."

"She's right," Alfador grinned in an embarrassed sort of way. "You should know. We play by our own rules, and you've been playing by them too."

The lack of comprehension was so thick in the air, it was beginning to give them all a headache.

"Look, Lucca-sama, you remember growing up with an invalid mother, right?" Alfador waited patiently for the nod. "But your mother isn't an invalid. She never was. You've been to a broken future that never was. You've met people that never were, been changed by people who never were. And we can be broken, are broken, by someone even if they never existed. Time is just a place to us--and to you too."

They had gone to bed, their heads full of thoughts, too many to place or number. They slept the sleep of those determined to dream an answer. They slept with one ear open, waiting against the crack of another broken dream.

The gathered dream stone glowed softly, calling ideas and filling to its brim with inspiration. Mune's face was odd, lit by it; it made him look less the young man or the hero, and more the instrument of death.

"You know," said Masa, coming up on the table's other side, "We are in a palace. They have influence. They hand things down. I bet they could get something to someone, even if they were, you know, 400 years in the future?"

"That's just what I was thinking, Masa."

They each put a hand on the dream stone. It felt like an primal egg.

"We never were much for quiet, were we, Masa?"

"No, Mune. We never were."

"Or for peace?"

Masa thought. The red gleam danced in his eyes.

The sword that protects is still a sword. And this one was not made with a sheath.

"Peace ... is arrived at through war, Mune."

The room brightened. No figures crowded the table. No shadows danced on the wall. There was just the castle, at night, as it always was. A table, gems and, ancient, young, broken, fixed, blade bright with liquid sheen as though blood still streamed down it, crimson light, dripping on the floor, there was a sword.

--  
AN: Octopus. I don't know why. I'm beginning to think Doreen likes sea food. And I'm really tempted to draw a picture of her with her giggling wig of a little brother. The first part of this chapter broke rules probably found in every writing book out there. I think it went surprisingly well. Keeping track of a cast this large gets a bit muddling at times, but their individual voices help a lot. Are you sick of the quotes yet? 


	8. The Sword Has Spoken

"The inmates are ghosts whose dreams have been murdered."  
--Jill Johnston

The morning was soft and tinged with a mood best known by Trigger. There was a tendency towards wistful smiles, towards quieted voices, towards giving up.  
Alfador sat on the window ledge, in kitty form, tail curling back and forth as a reminder that she was not a statue. They all felt like failures, she knew. Humans were so transparent. She could see the past and present, but never the minds and hearts of those around her. But who needed to?   
All of them blaming themselves. I am the leader, I should have thought... We barely made up! I have failed my tribe. I have failed my Queen. I have failed the others, I am stuck here, they are so sad and there is nothing I can do.   
I will be destroyed. No one hurts me-- Or my family! Something is lost... Why so sad?   
...I never should have let them.   
If she could read that stranger, see beyond his red eyes...   
But perhaps that was the problem. Humans were more than flesh, Dreams more than Dream Stone...perhaps this stranger lacked the more. Who could argue with a rock?   
Someone scritched around the ruff of her neck, and she absently reminded herself not to use her powers to find out who. She could tell from the ki that it was Glenn--or the smell, or even by turning her head, if she wanted to be all mortal about it.   
"Miaau." He'd remembered to take the gloves off, this time.   
"'Tis so strange, Lady Alfador..." Glenn shook his head, green locks trailing. "I had ne'er thought of Masa and Mune whilst they were a sword. Now that they once again speak, as well as thy kin, now while Trigger and Epoch coo and murmur as children..." He softened. "I am saddened."   
He picked her up, smiling into the fuzz and whiskers. "I said it before, had I not? Thou act remarkably like a cat. And the infants..."   
He sighed.   
"One can forget they be not human. That... that 'tis true of thou all."   
Alfador nuzzled into Glenn's neck and began rumbling.   
He chuckled just a moment. "It makes me anxious! Robo we all accept as our own, though I know not of his construction. Should I worry for thy lives, thy souls?" 

"If you prick us, we do not bleed," Doreen peeked over Glenn's shoulder, startling him. "If you tickle us, we do not laugh. If you poison us, we do not die. But if you wrong us, we shall get our revenge."   
"Doreen, thou art frightening me." Glenn sweatdropped.   
"How are we supposed to get our revenge, nee-sama?" Glenn jumped again as the form in his arms was replaced with an elbow leaning on his shoulder.   
"Joint assault! Hit him where it hurts! Go for the jugular! Castrate with extreme prejudice!"   
"That's not gonna help."   
"But it'll make me feeeel better."   
Glenn was slowly backing away. Alfador turned abruptly to him.   
"I've figured out what memories are, Glenn-sama! I remember my littlest brother complaining that we called him "Wot," I remember Trigger-kun always begging me not to lead you to him, I remember," She thumbed at her sister, "That Doreen has a range of three octaves, I remember when Janasu-sama was a bastard only in the literal sense, I remember having to argue the point of my existence from the moment of my creation and I remember--"   
She trailed off.   
"...I remember losing that argument." She muttered.   
Glenn watched her quietly for a moment. The dreams could not be read by their expressions for their thoughts. They were more foreign than the reaches of time.   
"It's no wonder," She finally continued. "Queen Zeal... Janasu-sama takes after her. The way Schala-sama takes after King Zeal. Janasu-sama and I have..."   
She shook her head, long violet eartails trailing.   
"We've got personalities that don't work together. Janasu-sama and Queen Zeal. Both of them demand respect, and I'm... well..." She gave a grin, honest and sparked by a true memory. Her eyes lit upon Glenn. "Do you know what my first words to him were? 'Come, little Janus, let's see if you can fly!' and then I threw him off of Zeal."   
"Schala-sama thought I was joking... 'Oh, she wouldn--AIEEEEEEEEEEEE! JANUS!!'"   
Glenn looked like he didn't know whether to be amused or to blame Magus' sadistic nature on this. His shoulders were shaking, though.   
Magus was a lot less amused, from where he observed. Was _that_ it? He had a hard time remembering exactly what had happened in the short weeks--week?--that Alfador had been his tutor. She had made her impression on him, yes. He had learned to fly, when all of those palace idiots said he was magic-less. He floated everywhere for that week. Then Queen Zeal had lost her patience with Alfador's obvious knowledge and her predictions--as well as the Dream's shapely figure, carved by her own husband--and Schala had to lock Alfador within a speechless form, for her own safety.   
After that, Janus stopped floating and refused to give any more sign of his inherent, profound magic. The rumors started again. The Queen was incensed, but impotent; her son humiliated her and her throne smelled constantly of cat piss.   
Magus at least found a bit of humor in that last bit.   
"You should know better than to eavesdrop." A soft voice at his pointed ear.   
He turned quickly, but not enough to catch the attention of the sisters and the hapless Glenn, who was again caught in the middle of something. His moment of reminiscence had allowed the quiet figure to stroll right up to him.   
"Didn't I teach you better?" She shook her head in a soft, maternal way.   
Magus did not know how to respond. He could not act as Janus, he could not act as the Prophet, and ... the Magus had no kin, did he?   
Schala stepped forward, to stand beside him. "She really frightened me when she did that." Her lips twitched into small grins and chuckles as poor Glenn was abused. "But when you flew... floated, really... I think I was even more thrilled than you were."   
She looked up into his eyes, and Magus found himself averting his gaze. Oh, hell. Even Janus was not this damnedably stupid.   
"Janus..." It gave Magus a jolt, hearing his real name, properly pronounced for once, "Why didn't you tell me?"   
"What was there to tell?" His cold, coffin voice replied before he could even think.   
"That you were my brother." She turned bodily to him. "That the person I care most about in the world was--is alive!"   
He had no reply to that. Schala shook her head at him a moment before enveloping him in her arms. It was difficult; he was thick.   
Magus stood upright at a pole, trying not to tense or reject his sister, but completely unable to relax. Even if he wanted to get all mushy, he did not know how; besides, he had this idea that Alfador would interrupt the moment with some loud and inappropriate remark.   
Schala eventually withdrew, looking into and through Magus' eyes as if for something or someone.   
Her lips barely moved. "Janus, what happened to you?"   
He took a little breath, fangs showing for just an instant. But how to explain--?   
Schala gave him a sad look. "Those eyes and ears aren't even the _least_ bit attractive."   
Magus bit his tongue. Schala was laughing at him, with big sister impunity.   
"You've been hanging around Alfador too much." He accused. But really, he was thinking... Schala took after her father, yes. And Alfador was also his creation, and perhaps did as well.   
As Schala dragged him back towards the common room, he thought he'd have liked to meet King Zeal. To get to know him, understand him, and perhaps strangle him. Yes, strangling would be nice.   
These thoughts disappeared, however, upon finding the common room two Dreams short. 

The identical bodies bounded across Sleep as if gravity were just a suggestion. Their swords were drawn and flickered like stars in the void.   
"How are we 'sposed to find him, Masa?"   
"I don't know, but we'd better hurry up. If our sisters find out--"   
"They'll flip." Mune made a face. "I'd rather face the mystery prize."   
Mune halted. Masa overshot him just barely.   
"Mune...?"   
Mune turned, putting them back to back. Glancing around at the void, he grinned.   
"HEYYYYY BUDDY! What's with that haircut of yours?!"   
Masa gave heaven a glance. Now their sisters would definitely find them. Oh well. He threw back his caution, and also his head.   
"The mohawk look was over aeons ago!"   
"What's wrong, couldn't afford a shirt?"   
"You have B.O!"   
"You fight like a girl!" Masa shot him a wild glance. "A... a less threatening girl than our sisters..." He finished lamely.   
"Is that so?"   
Their swords swiveled for the voice before their heads did. The mystery dream was much younger now, looking about sixteen and a lot less threatening, the muscles born of fighting for one's life thinned to muscles born of play and homework avoidance. The twins felt no hope in this, though; if it were they, halved so many times, they would already be infants.   
"I think this look is timeless," he said, leaning against an axe now bigger than his torso. "And I don't have B.O."   
"Yeah-huh, you smell like copper!"   
"Naw, Masa, copper smells good. Cobalt, say cobalt!"   
"Well, this makes things simpler," The young man lifted the axe above his head without effort. "Once I've finished you, it should be easy to reduce the others to Trigger's state."   
The twin's eyes narrowed. It was one thing to cut them down to pieces--Trigger was just a single shining piece of dust.   
"You going down." said Masa.   
"The sword has spoken." Mune grinned. The twins separated and picked their stances. Masa pulled his sword down to one hip, the blade cross length in front of him, a defensive stance. Mune held his between hips, blade in front of him, an offensive stance. The twins shared a glance, then switched stances in a finger snap. Masa attacked.   
The stranger brought his axe up sideways to block. It was so wide as to be an effective shield, and as Masa rebounded off it, the axe came down to split him while he tried to dance away. It caught his shirt and split his belt, but the scar was immediately repaired, and the stranger, bent over him, was halved again from behind by Mune. Masa darted forward--now fourths. In an odd dance, the twins hacked around their subject, a frenzy of activity from each of them that never managed to hit his opposite, hacking on the other side. It was quickly over with, the axe reformed and catching one, a fist catching another. They were both thrown through the air, again, without regards for physics.   
They withdrew to opposite sides again as they healed. The figure in the center looked thirteen or twelve. Shorter now, he looked ridiculous hefting an adult's axe, but he hefted it with no more trouble than before. The twins narrowed their eyes. He should be a lot younger by now. They were very much at the disadvantage so far as youth; like any sword, they had to be balanced, and he need break only one of them to break them both.   
They both took a step back on one foot, sword in front of them, in identical offensive stances at the exact same time. The stranger was starting to chuckle, his spiked hair bouncing up and down.   
"You think this is funny?" said Masa.   
"You crashed our baby brother!"   
"You broke our annoying sister!"   
"She doesn't even sing anymore!"   
"--And we'd thank you for that,"   
"--but you're still going to hell!"   
They attacked from opposite sides at the same time, but the axe was up, ready, spinning. It caught them both, taking first Masa's face, then Mune's head. They never landed, this time; a hand caught them each and shoved them back to back, axe disregarded for now, the crimson gashes of their faces searching. The instant of their confusion was the instant the axe fell upon them like upright logs to be split. Skull to pelvis through their blind bodies, against their faceless screams, the axe came down.   
_The sword, untouched by anything, was cut down its center line, through hilt and blade-- _  
The twins fell over, their left sides shimmering into dust. The axe was coming down again, but never did. The stranger's eyes widened only slightly as he brought his arms down fully to see they'd been severed at the wrist. Doreen darted in front of him, pulling the two boys away, but he ignored them, head jolting to the side, searching out his attacker. There was only the momentary flash of a half-moon sickle and all his targets were gone.   
"Know it all..." His red eyes fixed on the direction of the attack, and he moved forward, prowling. "You're next." 

Half the blade of the Masamune disappeared, replaced by a young boy with blue hair, familiar to all those present.   
"Masaaa~!"   
Half the hilt followed immediately after, leaving a sobbing green-haired lad in its wake.   
"It huuuurt!"   
The sisters appeared and split up, one going to each. They picked up their dear little brothers, and whacked them both upside the head.   
"Morons!" 

--  
AN: Pricking, tickling and poisoning courtesy of Shakespeare. Observations that went into this chapter/my version of Masa and Mune:  
When Crono uses the dagger, Masa and Mune both speak. Both spirits are innate to the object from the beginning, and it has nothing to do with them being broken.  
Daggers are more balanced in terms of mass than swords; meaning you could have roughly half the mass in the hilt, half in the blade. Blades are not made at the same time as hilts.  
Mune likes to slash things. (Wind slash! Whoosh!)  
Although the Masamune's blade is broken and not the hilt, both Masa and Mune become children..  
I apologize profusely for Masa and Mune's speech. I can't help it, they want to talk that way. At least they didn't say "mundo" or "man" again.  



	9. Reduced to This

"Everything you can imagine is real."   
--(Pablo Picasso) 

  
"We are awash in an abyss of uncertainty, sister."   
"Are we?"   
"Yes."  
"Damn."  
The sisters stared up at the stars.  
"We can be sure of nothing. Our senses deceive us. Science cannot reconnect us to the pre-cognizant world. Do I even exist? I am a dream, a delusion made real. If I fear and imagine I am dead, is that not also a delusion? I am dead and alive."  
"Logic would call that incoherent."  
"Logic is illogical for human beings."  
"We are not human. Might I add, if you become a philosopher, I will have to smack you."  
"Understood, sister."  
The others were there, listening in the off-hand way of those who might soon need to flee.  
"All things are true somewhere, and all is knowen."  
"All is known?"  
"Knowen, Alfie, you have to pronounce it knowen." Doreen drew herself up. "All is knowen, by you, I, people, the world, God."  
"You believe in God?"  
Doreen rolled her eyes. "Well, someone's screwing us over."  
"Can you prove that?"  
"Everyone has the right to believe they're getting screwed."  
"How about proving everyone? Rights? Beliefs?"  
"...damn."  
"Is it kno--knowen how to beat that twidget?"  
"Yeah, just got to find out who knows it."  
Alfador thought a moment.  
"...bet it's him."  
"Probably."  
Alfador sighed. "We were made to ramble incoherently, neechan, not to break things."  
"Yes. That's why we have the morons."  
Epoch ran past, as if on cue, arms out straight at his sides despite the fact that he had reformed his wings. He was laughing, undisturbed now that he had little left to lose.  
"It's funny," Alfador stared after him, "He doesn't look right without them, in either form."   
Granted, the wings were fledgling wings, appropriate to Epoch's age, and useless for flight.  
Doreen remained silent.  
Masa and Mune ran past, chasing him and each other.  
"Wotty wotty wot wot!"

"Neechan, can I ask you something?"  
A tumbling ball of feathers and cool colored hair rolled past.  
"I've noticed ... when you change forms, the whole pendant disappears. The bit that's cracked, too."  
"It's still held in place by the case, by the rest."  
"But it can't be...the parts that are you should disappear, and the broken bit should fall to the ground."  
Doreen raised an eyebrow. "Alfie, we call ourselves sisters, but we each had different parents. We say we're all Dreams, but we could each be a different race. You might as well ask Wot how he can carry around all that spare metal--you know Dream Stone's only the heart of the machine."  
The ears in the background pricked up.  
"Wauuuugh~!"  
"Even though I am broken," Doreen concluded, "I can still feel and affect the other piece. It's not physically connected, but it is me."  
Alfador grit her teeth. Doreen was the eldest--in other words, the prototype. Something Queen Zeal knew that the others didn't---?  
"But if you're like that, what about that weirdo Dream? Maybe that's why we can't fight him properly! If he is broken but keeps his whole, there is no way to fight him--"  
"I'm not as strong, sister. It's hard to spread your bits over distance."  
Doreen stopped and looked at the ground with tense concentration.  
"Only in our dreams are we free," she said. "The rest of the time we need wages."  
And that was that.  


  


  
The next few days passed with frightened uneventfulness. Alfador had already explained that locking her into cat form worked by pushing almost all of her into Sleep, where nothing would attack her. Would have attacked her. Now, of course, it was no option.  
Lucca finished her work on Epoch with the sort of caffeinated, frenzied determination that made artists live their lives in the witching hours. Epoch clapped his approval.  
"And now what?" Crono asked.  
Lucca stared so hard at the thing, it disappeared. Mid-way through her heart attack, she noticed the winged child standing in its place.  
"Goooot it." He grinned.  
"Got wot." commented Mune.  
"Got stupid!" Epoch attacked. The normal tusseling followed.  
"....?!" said Lucca.  
Doreen popped in with an imitation of Robo. "It has been assimilated."  
Crono pulled the feathered rugrat out of the fight, whereupon he squeaked. "You can take us home, then?"  
"Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--"  
Eight penetrating gazes bored into the little figure.  
"--hhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... nyope!" Epoch danced around in a circle and posed. "Buuuut, as the great," he flexed his arms, "powerful!" he mantled his wings, "one and only Wings of Tii~me! I can carry you... one at a time!"  
He seemed to think this was clever.  
Lucca ran her trembling fingers through her hair. "I gave it my best shot, and it's better than nothing, right? But we'll have to wait until this is settled, and if that psycho cuts him into any more pieces, he won't even have enough power for this."  
"It's wonderful, Lucca!" Schala was beaming. "To think, you weren't even raised in Zeal, but you adapted the technology so well...now off to bed before you collapse!"  
Magus scowled a bit as Schala applied her big sister act to the mumbling Lucca. A team effort was involved in getting her up the stairs, mostly because Robo was trying to help but was just in the way. Glenn and Magus were left with the Dreams.  
"And now what, Alfador?" Magus turned back to her.  
"What do you think, Janasu-sama? We pray! Although you probably shouldn't, God must not like you very much."  
Magus leveled her with the pragmatic gaze she had herself taught him. "Your grin is off."  
Alfador pursed her lips. "Even broken, Epoch has more power than I do. In Sleep, it's just pure dream stone... and I'm made from such a little bit... Doreen even less... Janasu-sama, I'm weak. He's strong. You should understand that."  
Magus grunted. "You are not weak."  
"Next to him I am. Next to you I am, now."  
"I fail to see..." Magus slid his gaze off her, "...why we cannot be your strength. After all, that's what this idiotic friendship business is about, isn't it?"  
Alfador stared at him for a long moment, without blinking, as though she'd also forgotten she wasn't a cat. He kept his eyes on the corner of the room.  
Glenn cleared his throat. "Lady Alfador..."  
"You shouldn't worry."  
"...what?"  
She turned to Glenn. "You asked me if you should worry for my soul. I have none. I am an object. I have no soul. Do you understand? I have no feelings, no thoughts, no personality, no ... no anything. I am not a person. I am a tool."  
There was a growl from the corner. "If you have none of those things, then I am a Queen Leene."  
"Well, we could try you out in a dress and see--"  
"Be serious for once in your existence, Alfador!"  
"I was created," Alfador said slowly and distinctly, as if talking to someone foreign, "To be silly. I can only be what ... what King Zeal required of me. An oracle and a governess."  
Alfador turned on them and left the room. "The prophecy has come true and the children have grown up. And a tool that is no longer needed is tossed away."  
The two enemies and allies watched her retreating back. The other Dreams had barely noticed, too busy playing jacks.  
"This is your fault for bringing up her soul."  
Glenn snorted, but made no reply. Doreen reached foursies.  
"What shall thou do without her?"  
"What do you mean?" Magus was staring at the bouncing red rubber ball. Power beyond man, reduced to this.  
"She is thine feline."  
"I told you, she's not a cat."  
"Well, she is certainly feline," Glenn turned to leave. "And is she not thine?"  


  


  
Time in Sleep was relative, but then, time always was. For this reason it was a few days and an eternity and no time at all before he found her.  
"So," His voice was full of casual menace. It echoed with the universal chords of playground bullies everywhere. "Have you thought of something? Or is it mean to ask a know-it-all to think?"  
Alfador turned very slowly. "I've never known everything. What you most want to know is what you never will. That's true for everyone."  
"How philosophical."   
Alfador made a face.  
"Why are you doing this?" The expression on her face was so unlike her. Created to be silly.  
"Like you care? You wanna stop me."  
"You're ever nearing unforgivable."  
"Who should forgive me?" Finally, she could see him. He was ... amazing, he was so young. But it just made that axe look larger. His childlike voice was disturbing, his impish face with that expression and those eyes...  
"Why are you doing this?"  
He ignored her, calmly stepping forward.  
"You aren't answering questions?" Alfador tilt her head down slightly. Were she not a Dream, she would feel ... affected by his form, wouldn't she? As a governess, she almost did.  
The little one shook his head, and hadn't even stopped when his chest exploded outward, and he was pinned to the ground. Through the shimmering of dust he located the half moon sickle, reformed as a spear. When he pulled it out, breaking it in half, the larger piece began smacking him of its own free will.  
"You do have a brain!" He watched the stick beat him for a few moments before deciding and launching himself after her. "But with one piece of you, I can find you!"  
The others were so strong, it was so hard just to do that, never mind slicing him into pieces--  
"'s really a shame--"  
The untrained voice snickered somewhere in the void. Alfador tried changing direction and feinting, but it was no good. There was no answer, there was no third option, there was no last second rescue forthcoming.  
"See, I gotta brain too, I learn pretty quick--"  
This was real, the end. Was _this_ how humans lived their lives? Was this fear?  
"--so ya really shouldn't teach me things."  
The axe split her skull in an instant, fastening her to the ground like a collector's butterfly. Even so, her body spasmed, as if trying to pull her free.  
He formed a second axe and diced her thinly from the feet up, like a chef with a carrot, no, like a geologist taking slices of some precious gem, laser cut and diced. The void of Sleep was rent with her screams. They fell on deaf ears, on immobile stone, on the fatal indifference of a world that did not answer to oracle's prayers.  


  


  
Seven people, five Dreams and one Robot all stared with fatal intent at the small, chipped object on the floor. It was hard to imagine what universal shock made even the youngest crease his newborn brow. The object was certainly not threatening; odd, but unremarkable. It was just an overly curvy, underly clothed woman, carved out of red rock. When put on the dash of the Blackbird, it danced at the sway.  
They sucked in their breath as the tiny figure was replaced by a larger, living one. But it was not large enough, nor was it just one.  
The red-haired boy grinned at them, his infant sister bawling in his arms.  
"Wanna talk?"  


  


--  
AN: Doreen's free v. wages quote is from Terry Pratchett's "The Wyrd Sisters." He is my favorite author. Alfie's rock form has always been that, by the way, you can check the profile pages. ( )   
Review please! 


	10. A Something Named

"There is a dream dreaming us."   
- a Kalahari Bushman 

  
The boy's words were barely out of his mouth when the Zealian siblings laid down the welcome they'd prepared just for him. The dark energy coalesced around him, and he seemed to be a shiny metal becoming dull and corroded over centuries, only sped to a few seconds. When it faded, the figure was even smaller. Ayla's fist came down on him, shattering him--  
"Wait, it's me!" It squeaked. "Hold on, any more an' I won't be able t'talk!"  
The others held onto their spells just barely. Crono's heels had already left the ground, the air was warping in a heat wave around Lucca, and when Marle snorted her disgust, her breath crystallized in the air. The child dreams had all huddled behind Robo and Glenn.  
"Who...?" That was Crono's voice, but they were all leaning in, wondering. They took in the shock of red hair, the pants and boots and belt. The belt. The S, in slashes. The voice--now that it was reduced to a squeak, it reminded one of something, not that long ago, but also ages ago, there was, there was an annoying voice, an ego, a something, something small and white, a something in the form of a poyozo doll, a something named--  
They all understood as one.  
"_SPEKKIO?!_"  
"Hey, you do remember me!" The little thing beamed. "Should, seeing how I'm the reason you--"  
"The reason we're _trapped_ here!" In the cold, Marle looked about to breathe flame.  
"What's _wrong_ with you?!" Lucca lost some of her control and set the table on fire.  
"Weren't you on our _side_?!" The stone around Crono began to magnetize, and silverware flew across the room and attached itself to the walls.  
"Thou hast _best_ explain thyself." Glenn glared down his Brave Sword with the full anger of one who whose proper sword was cowering behind his back.  
"_Now_." Magus gripped his scythe so hard, his gloves were turning white.  
"And you had best talk quickly." Schala's voice was cold, aristocratic, imperious. She did not know this person and did not want to.  
"...did I ever tell you guys what a great team you make?"  
"Ayla make big hole in rock. Ayla put little man through _many_ times to make bigger hole--"  
"Some appreciation!" The little thing stuck out its tongue, falling over with the struggling of the tiny Alfador. She seemed to be trying to gnaw off his wrists. "Beh, enough of this plane."  
Before even their barely reined power could react, they were somewhere wholly different. In a matter of a few seconds, they realized they had not reacted because nothing had changed. They were all in the same places and in the same states--it was merely as if the world had been peeled back like an onion, teary layers discarded for the core.  
The little child Spekkio was there, but so was the small child, the toddler, the youngster, the pre-teen, the teen, the adult, the poyozo doll, the nu and everything in between. The adult Alfie, infant Alfie, cat Alfie and rock Alfie all gave him a swift kick at the same time, and hid behind Schala.  
It was impossible to describe how the figures floated in and out of each other--how, despite being different sizes and shapes, they connected and were one. All the ages of the humans were visible--even ones not yet seen, which made them draw back their eyes and forget, choose not to see.  
"The plane of potentiality," said Spekkio, realizing his act would also require an explanation. "I want the Dreams to hear. Really, I'm only explaining it to you too because I'm so gosh durn nice."  
"...Ayla smack him?"  
"Me first."  
"Now, wait!" Spekkio threw up his hands. "You can't just leave Dreams hanging around! They're tools, and someone will use them."  
"So, you destroy them all?" Magus glanced at Alfador. Dreams did not fear. They did not feel, or think, they were not people.  
Why are you shaking, then? It's the barest of vibrations, but you never move without purpose--  
"They're not destroyed! They're right here."  
"And mighty pissed off, too." said Masa.  
"Gonna kick me some poyozo ass." added Mune.  
Doreen apparated some popcorn and a devilish expression.  
"Um, excuse me?"  
They blinked and turned. They weren't sure about the young man in the cloak, but they recognized the long waves of hair. All of them had gotten tangled up in it at some point, and been mercilessly giggled at and drooled upon.  
"He hasn't broken Doreen that badly, you know? And he could have." Trigger tilted his head at the diffuse Spekkio images. "You purposefully cut off just the arm. Why?"  
Spekkio clapped his hands. "Ah, the good always die young, eh?"  
"Sadly." Trigger sighed. "But being a kid is actually kind of fun. Lots of lollies, and all that."  
"The reason," Spekkio interrupted, annoyed their lack of concentration, "is that she has to be the one to carry them to their new job."  
They blinked as one. "New... job?"  
"They have their place, here with us." Magus growled.  
"There are better places. Where they are needed." Spekkio knit his wiry eyebrows. "All that power, just hanging around--their presence is un-harmonic."  
"Art thou ready to murder us, for our power?"  
Spekkio rolled his eyes. "You're mortal. You're practically dead already."  
They were about to interrupt, but he raised his hand. "Listen to me. You think you've solved everything. You've solved nothing. Life isn't a fairy tale, there are no endings--each solution breeds new problems."  
He shrugged. "So, we're here. We might as well be, since we need dreamers and dreamers need a ground to stand on."  
"Doreen--" His arm uncoiled slowly, the tips of his fingers reaching to her, "--the first dimensional leap will be hard, but the others shall be much easier, once you leave part of yourself here ... and the rest takes us..."  
He pulled out a small leather bag and tossed it to her. She flinched as she caught it.  
"Us." He smiled. "You're too weak to carry others, but a few fragments of rock you can manage. Once there, there will be people to repair us."  
He fisted his hand, and between his fingers flowed streams of red on the path between worlds. Shimmering fragments of Dreams, of them all--each piece of dust holding a tiny bit of magic, which drew the elements around them like a pearl around a bit of sand. They were Dreams, and they formed the world around them. Someday, people would understand them again. Perhaps, as in the old days, they might find their own magic.  
"It all works out. Sometimes... sometimes I wonder about this."   


  


  
There was a grand parade, quaffing, noisemakers, mimes, puppeteers, celebrators of every type and age and a great amount of joy.  
There was, however, no Frog, not even any Glenn.  
The missing knight was sitting alone on top of the barracks, staring up at the stars. Technology, with its flashing lights and complicated image screens, could never compare to this. For one, he had too many fond memories--it was right to be staring at the stars. As a child or as a frog or as a man.  
"The world be safe..." Glenn drew his brave sword and ran his thumb along it. It was all too confusing--the future, the past, himself and the world. Those he was closest to existed in times where he was dead or not yet alive. Being transformed into a mystic--dealing with Robo and the Dreams, it made things difficult. He had ventured home in Epoch without even a murmur of disapproval towards the demonic king.  
He was still himself as a mystic. Robo and the Dreams, he was certain, were people as much as anyone. But he hated it, this idea forming in his head... that perhaps Magus was a person as much as anyone... as human as anyone...  
At the very least, he could not challenge someone who had just lost one they loved in front of the only other person they had.  
Glenn sighed and wondered if he should consider it an act for Schala's sake. Liberalism and the confusion of honor did not do well for a knight. But, after seeing the changes that pieces of kindness wreaked through the ages, a sword seemed a sorry weapon.  
"Glenn...?"  
He sheathed his blade and returned to the circle of light and sound within. Queen Leene smiled at him, and gently pulled him back into the festivities, her touch as unafraid as it had always been all these years.  
Perhaps he had been thinking of it backwards. It did no good to sympathize with your enemy as he stood ready to attack, but what did that matter, if you could protect the peace.   


  


  
They were complete groundlings, serfs, unpleasant peasantry. But, he supposed, they were his groundlings.  
"Couldn't he have waited?" Magus' voice was soft. "Couldn't he have waited until we were truly dead? Or can he really not tell the difference?"  
At times, he had to admit, Magus also had trouble distinguishing. Schala smiled softly, without warmth. She drew her cloak around her.  
"I asked her to bring you to me, and she did." The wind whipped up his hair and blocked his expression.  
"She did it because she wanted to, not because you told her to." Her smile had a little glow, this time.  
"That's why it matters."  
Schala came forward, and knit her hand into his. In the cold, changing world, you had to grasp your warmth while you could.  
"Come on," she said, "I'll buy you a puppy."   


  


  
"...I don't think I understand at all."  
"The idea of time travel is rather tricky," said Lucca dubiously, trying not to agree with Marle. "I had hoped we'd gotten around the paradoxes simply because ... well, it worked."  
"So, we haven't changed anything at all?" Crono's fists were tight in his lap, his shoulders hunched.  
"That's not true," said Marle rapidly.  
"We have created a place where people can live. We've created a future. You can argue about where it exists, but it's somewhere, now, because of us."  
"We couldn't save them," said Crono.  
"They're alive. They're out there, too, somewhere. Look," Lucca beckoned him, and after a moment, Crono opened his hand a little. There was a sparkle--from something like a piece of glitter, only much smaller. Lucca folded Crono's hands up again.  
"You just hold on to that. I have a feeling--let me get my tweezers," she turned around and began rummaging, "If we put it in a capsule, if it's them but still connected somehow... or even just remembering how to be them..."  
Her voice and the ruckus of workshop miscellaneous being pushed aside faded in their ears. Marle leaned over, eyes on Crono's fist.  
"Do you think they'll really be all right? Not just the Dreams, but everyone...?"  
Crono paused, the crashes of machinery behind him. Finally, he gave Marle a hug.  
"I'm sure of it. It's got to exist somewhere, right?" He smiled. "Besides..."  
He placed her hand over his.  
"I swear it's warm."   


  


  
"There really is a future," said Robo, beeping in awe. It was, to his satisfaction, mostly like he remembered it before he went off-line. Technology never improves as fast as you think it will.  
Skyscrapers assaulted the sky, whole and gleaming. Hover-cars whizzed by, taking no notice of Robo--for the first time in quite a long time, he passed totally without remark. He was slightly unsure if he missed it.  
The city contained metal and rubbish and bustle and noise, comforting like the insides of a clock. But it was outside, in the great unprotected wilderness, that he caught a glimpse of pink and aqua and a sense of conclusion.  
"There really is a future, and, apparently, I am a person," he informed her, "What are the percentages?"   


  


  
And Ayla, as always, was more to the point. She beat the heck out of anything even remotely resembling a poyozo doll, had a feast and got thoroughly trashed.  
"Ayla have huuuuuge headache," she said the next morning, "But at least it now from food. Ayla ready for nest now. Kino?"  
"Uh?"  
"Make nest."  
And the rest is obvious.


	11. In This World, He Hoped

"Love is an attempt to change a piece of dream world into reality."  
--Theodor Reik

  
The child cried, but neither the flames nor the battle touched her. She thought she had found a safe spot. She did not understand that the spot was safe because she was in it.  
Doreen danced in a circle around the child, singing "It's Gonna Rain." The chuckling notes of the song seemed to comfort the child, but that could not be. The odd beasts who prowled the fires saw Doreen and withdrew, but no human laid eyes upon the well-dressed ghost. Her odd sing-song was lost on human ears.  
The child cried a lot that night.  
"Why... why does everyone always leave me?"  
"You silly child," Doreen patted her head. "We never left you. You just forgot we were here. But we are."  
And she grinned into the flame-licked stars, the huddled child sobbing at her feet.   


  


  
"I'm tired, Masa."  
"I know. I know, Mune."  
It was so dark and cold. There was no Sleep in this world; they had lost the others; they were alone in the dark and the cold. Melchior had pieced them together all right, but with so much of their original dream stone gone, they felt incomplete just the same. What's more, Melchior himself had died a few months ago. They had felt it, they had felt part of themselves die with him. Others believed; but they believed wistfully, in a sword or a legend. They did not believe in a reality, nor a dream, they did not believe in Masa or Mune.  
"It's just..." Mune panted, the air in the room stirring with him, through his power rather than his breath. "It's like humans after a big meal, I think, Masa. We need a nap..."  
"That makes no sense, Mune. Stay awake. Stay up."  
But Mune's eyelids were already closing. The breeze in the room had completely died down. Masa reached over and shook him, but his eyes stayed closed.  
"We can't, Mune... What happens when Dreams sleep? It's not good, Mune. We can..." Masa's eyes closed for a second, and he jolted awake. "Wake up. We may be ghosts, but we can make them believe, believe in ghosts. Wake up..."  
But one twin was nothing without the other. Mune stayed asleep, and soon his twin was snoozing on his shoulder. The red glow of the sword behind them slowly darkened, darkened, waiting to be rekindled.   


  


  
"Epakuuuuunn!"  
Epoch glanced over his shoulder, annoyed. He hated when Trigger said his name that way. He wasn't "Epa-kun." But at least it was better than "Wot."  
"What?" Epoch enunciated clearly, so that the word had no resemblance to "Wot."  
"Nothing. I'm bored." Trigger jogged down the corridor, his long hair barely managing not to sweep the floor. In this new world, they had found their old masters, still alive, and been re-assembled. In a hanger was the Epoch, whole but grounded, rechristened "Neo," which annoyed Epoch, as he was older than that other, lesser, non-important Epoch. The heavy time egg was hidden somewhere as well. But with no Sleep in this dimension, they could only manifest in human form as ghosts; adult and whole, but intangible. The scientists left the objects alone to quell their nightmares. The last technician to get the idea of throwing away the Time Egg had dreams of being strangled (by one of Trigger's long hairs) and crushed (by the boys jumping up and down on him in his sleep.) Reminded, Epoch sidled up to one of the scientists at a nearby station.  
"Touch the plane, and the big dumb hedgehog will eeeeeaaaat yooouuuuu~" said Epoch in what he thought was a spooky voice. Trigger snickered.  
"The egg is your friiiiiend," Trigger said to the man's other ear. "The egg protects you from the big dumb hedgehog."  
"Fear the wrath of the big dumb hedgehog."  
"The big dumb hedgehog doesn't like you."  
"You never call the big dumb hedgehog."  
"Really," said Trigger, grinning as the man started to look around in paranoia, "Nobody calls the big dumb hedgehog. Nobody likes the big dumb hedgehog."  
"That's why the big dumb hedgehog is asexual," Epoch added glasses to his outfit and pushed them knowingly up his nose. "No one would date the big dumb hedgehog."  
Trigger nodded. "The big dumb hedgehog cries itself to sleep at night."  
"The big dumb hedgehog had to spawn just to have some little friends."  
"Nobody loves the big dumb hedgehog."  
This went on for a few more minutes before they got bored of it, and wrote and revised "The Hedgehog Song" (subtitled: Big and Dumb.) Then they moved on to one of their more common games.  
"--and one foot hoop earrings."  
Trigger took a long breath. "I went into the palace one day and saw Janus wearing ... his mother's lipstick, lacy underwear, a bag over his head, five inch spiked dominatrix shoes, neon lederhosen, a Marle wig, an "I hate Glenn" shirt, one foot hoop earrings aaand ... a ten gallon hat with an arrow through it."  
"I went into the palace one day and saw Janus wearing his mother's lipstick, lacy underwear ... a bag over his head, five inch spiked dominatrix shoes, neon lederhosen ... a Marle wig, an "I hate Glenn" shirt, one foot hoop earrings, a ten gallon hat with an arrow through it ... and carrying his mother's yaoi."  
"What's yaoi?"  
"The enemy of all we stand for, bro." Epoch slid him a cool look.  
Trigger raised an eyebrow at that. "What, like the big dumb hedgehog?"  
"I hadn't thought of that... Lavos as the source of all yaoi... it's sick, but it explains why Queen Zeal liked the stuff so much."  
"Only Queen Zeal liked the big dumb hedgehog."  
"Queen Zeal just liked yaoi." Epoch stuck out his tongue. "No one likes the big dumb hedgehog."  
"Poor dead big dumb hedgeh--do you feel that?" Trigger turned his head, the fragile balance of his hair overturned, making it cascade over his shoulders and fall through the floor.  
"Feel what?"  
"New people!" Trigger threw his hair back over his shoulders again and bounced down the stairs.  
"Whoo! Any pretty girls?"  
"Pretty girls?" Trigger plopped down next to one of them. "There's one girl."  
Epoch glared at him. "That's not a pretty girl, that's a kid! Freaky too..." He poked a finger at the armored dress.  
"What is your obsession with pretty girls anyway?" Trigger paced around and through the figures. A lot of them had red eyes. Yeah, freaky.  
"Look, Schala was a pretty girl, right? Marle and Lucca and Ayla and Leene were aaaall pretty girls, right? And they were all good, right?"  
"Well... yeeah." Trigger was discovering he could make long hair move if he poked at it hard enough.  
"So, pretty girls are good!"  
"...you are such an idiot."  
"Hey, I have wings, bro." Epoch twirled around and posed, wings spread. "Chicks DIG wings!"  
"What is wrong with you?" Trigger was standing in the midst of a battle, now, attacks going right through him. "You don't even have hormones, you're a friggin' rock, you're a plane, why on earth--"  
"Pfft. You spent too much time as a baby. You don't know."  
"I'm older than you! I'm ignoring you, let's play with the mortals."  
Trigger and Epoch followed the group around, wondering why they were there.  
"I can't believe bushy eyebrows has Alfie's hair color. I didn't know normal people had purple hair." Trigger had gotten the hair to swing back and forth like a pendulum, now. It was starting to creep out the little girl, although she said nothing.  
"Lucca had purplish hair. Not sure if she counts as normal, though."  
"His eyebrows are purple." The man had just turned, getting annoyed at his unusually active hair. He blamed the little girl. Unknown to him, he was bristling face to face with Trigger. "I don't think he'd dye his eyebrows."  
Epoch ducked his head. "His _pits_ are purple."  
Trigger and Epoch had the same idea and turned to each other at the same moment. "_Ewww...."_  
"I don't wanna know," said Trigger. Epoch just stuck out his tongue.  
"This place is creepy," muttered the object of their disgust. "I just wanna get home, curl up and read my porn..."  
"PORN?" Epoch waved his hand through the man, trying to get his attention. "You have porn? I think we misjudged this guy."  
Trigger's eyes addressed the sky. There was nothing to be done; all the his siblings were weirdos. "You know, he does have an axe. You'd think you wouldn't like axes."  
"Eh, he's probably just a lumberjack or some--" Epoch shut his mouth and turned wildly, but it was too late. There was a maniac twinkle in Trigger's eye.  
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh---"  
"Aw, dammit,"  
"hhhhhhhhhh.... he's a lumberjack and he's okay! He floats all night and time travels all day!"  
Epoch tried to hit his head against the wall, but he just kept going through it.  
"He picks up girls, he makes bad jokes, he likes to pick wild flowers! He don't know the diff'rence! 'Tween aeons, weeks and hours!"  
Completely unlike Epoch, Trigger seemed to actually miss Doreen's singing. Hence, the Hedgehog Song and some other, less kind ditties. At least he wasn't calling him "Wot."  
"He grows new wings, A D cup bra, he likes to wear high heels! He wish he was a girl-y, just like old Queen Zeal!"  
Trigger's favorite part, of course, was making the noises of hordes of scandalized people at the end of the song. This time he threw in a "Pervert!" for good measure. Epoch was glowering and starting to melt the nearby metal. By this time, the group of trespassers were quite a ways in.  
"If they try and mess with my solid bits, I'll have to hurt them." Epoch refocused his anger, frowning as the group fought off another mechanized guard.  
"They're gonna mess something up. They shouldn't be here." Trigger was confident that pretty girls wouldn't be mentioned for a while.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Weren't you paying attention when they built this thing?" Trigger waved his hand around. "They're gonna screw up time and space. They just walked into the wrong building, that's for sure."  
Epoch--and the less transparent people around him--jumped as a machine kicked into gear with a loud thump. "I've been watching them. Idiots have it all wrong to begin with. And very unstable." Trigger was looking up, his hands crossed behind his back. "It was nice to be adult again for a while."  
"What do you mean?! You suicidal moron--why didn't you do something?"  
"They wouldn't stop." Trigger shrugged. "They don't care about destroying us or not. It was easy to preserve our bodies. But they wouldn't stop this, it was too important to them."  
"Then why don't we do something about it?" Epoch grabbed Trigger's wrist, yanking him ahead of the bewildered intruders. He stopped only when they got to a giant golden globe.  
"It's too late." Trigger had one of his more recognizable expressions on, now. Resignment.  
"Who's the idiot? You're forgetting--nothing's too late for us." Epoch's gold eyebrows lowered and his teeth glinted in a grin.  
Trigger gave it a moment's thought, seeming to forget he was the Kamikaze Dream. His shroud of inevitability lifted. He smiled.  
They released their power at the same time, counting on the unstable reality to boost their chance. The areas hit by Trigger's powers froze; those hit by Epoch's circled endlessly around themselves, never quite reaching the moment of collapse.  
"Is this really any sort of life?" Trigger gazed at the frozen sea. It would have awed anyone else. He was always aware that life was a series of instants.  
"I ain't ready to join Kah Ray just yet." Epoch snorted.  
"You think there's a dream heaven?"  
"Hey, heaven's just a concept, right? It'd be just like Sleep. Besides, if we wait here for a while, maybe the others'll show up."  
Trigger gave a little smile, forming ice skates and hopping onto the endless sea. Epoch, for his part, plopped down beside the purple-haired ghost, giving him the shock of his life.  
"Now.... what was this about porn?"   


  


  
_I love them._  
He carved the rock carefully, lovingly. He hadn't planned to do anything like this, but the hourglass shape of the rock suggested itself to him.  
_I want to protect them._  
He was new at this and had already broken the rock once. But that had turned into an unexpected gift; after many hours work, the two pieces were reconnected, so that the top swayed gently at any movement.  
_For that, I need to know._  
Schala loved things like this, trinkets and toys that worked free of magic, by the wonder of the world itself. He had wasted a whole week once, putting together a small bird with delicate plumage. It was still by her windowsill, still drinking.  
_Please, God, let me know._  
He finished the face, giving it a wide grin. He tapped at the figure's side gently, and it danced.  
And he put all his power into it.  
And he put all his knowledge into it.  
And he put all his love into it.  
Into it, this little dancing figure that would, at very least, make his daughter laugh. Broken down to a shard, as it would be eventually be, it still shone as brightly as it did in his workshop. It still shone with power and knowledge and love. When it came to the new world, it remembered the Queen's angry face at her form, though, and thought perhaps it should try a new one. Unlike the others, she was left unrepaired; her dream stone form was the one to disappear, a new human in its place. Now, no women glowered angrily at their husbands, and gone were the odd, nonsensical requests. Instead, there were merely girls giggling, constantly. In his naivety, he assumed girls always giggled in this world. His hair had paled to lavender, but behind his mask his eyes still shone vibrant, with a touch of red and a gemlike quality.  
And the King of Zeal had put all his power into it, but the power was down almost to a normal human's. He had tricks, but nothing a human couldn't manage, nothing more than the best work of baby Janus. So he was strong and didn't seem to age, so magic suffused him even without elements, so his rod danced by his side without strings or illusion.  
And the King of Zeal had put all his knowledge into it, but that was the first to go. No longer knowing all, he took comfort in knowing more than most. He had senses others lacked and a feel for the leilines of the world, the crossroads of fate. He had unfathomable luck and intuition. There were other signs--he didn't eat much, and alcohol failed to affect him. One of his favorite jokes (although no one else found it funny) was to pretend to get wasted and lose at cards until the last, most crucial hand. It was how he afforded the expensive jewelry he draped around himself as much as possible. He loved metal and gems.  
And the King of Zeal had put all his love into it. And that, like the dream stone, twinkled just like before. Alfador was quieter, his smiles soft, but his movements still feline, long braid tapping hypnotically against his chair as he tipped his drink back.  
The door jangled, but Alfador did not bother to look. He had known, he had felt it coming. He was standing on the leiline. They could not help but come to him. And he would find his way, even if he had to do it as a mere human, even if he had to walk pathless steps under starless skies. He thought of firelight, and it seemed to him that the mysterious entity they had talked of must have been Spekkio. In that world, in any case. In this world, he hoped to be that person himself.  
He dipped his head down against his drink, smiling, smiling cattishly. Doreen had found another young neck. She was good at it. He pushed his chair back, standing.  
"Here we go again..."   


  


  
--  
"The writer is always tricking the reader into listening to their dream."  
--Joan Didion (I had to get it in here somehow.)

First of all, pleeeease do me a favor and don't mention to anyone that it's a crossover.

  
I consider this an episodic success, in other words, I had no idea where it was going but it worked out all right in the end. I would never have planned to involve CC--I hadn't played it when I started this fanfic, and anyway, it gives me a headache. I don't really care about debating whether my explanations make sense, but I will bow down and acknowledge you as right in all things, yes yes, if only you don't spoil the ending for other people. Thank you. ;)  
If I had known where I was going, for one, I'd probably have made Alfie a guy, even though this way it's more of a surprise. Then the transition to CC's Alfie would have been easier, and no one could mistake this for a Mary Sue. I also wouldn't have anyone thinking this would turn romantic with Magus, except me, because I like yaoi (guy/guy porn.) Which is why I had to make Epoch say that. ;) With Alfie's gender what it is, my yuri fanboy friend is dreaming up Alfie/Marle ideas as we speak. To be honest, I'm pretty curious as to how that could happen. And, anyway, I'm sort of writing a Lucca and Marle sequel to "Bounciness, Beware"... as well as considering doing something with Kah Ray (The Black Omen) because I hate that he's not in this thing.  
"It's Gonna Rain" is one of Rurouni Kenshin's ending songs, 6th I think. There's a Hedgehog Song in Terry Prattchet's Discworld novels, but this isn't it. There's a Lumberjack Song in Monty Python, and, of course, this is a version of it. It's kind of obvious I had too much fun with Trigger and Epoch, but they don't get much screentime before this, so I felt justified in indulging.  
For those of you who don't know, Guile's name in the original Japanese is Alfador or Alf. In my game I named him Alfie. There are many who believe that Guile is secretly Magus, which I never believed because Guile isn't a jerk like Magus. Although Magus is just the sort of dork who would name himself after his cat. And don't go on about Radical Dreamers, I know, I know. If you have played CC, you ought to be able to figure out Alfie's goals, what item Spekkio becomes, etc. I must admit this is perhaps my most evil fanfic, as most of it is spent ripping apart the characters, but I hope some other people will write for the Dreams now.  
I would love to start a trend, though if you're going to use my versions, crediiiit. I like influencing people, I like reviews, I even like getting MiSTed. This was my longest and perhaps last CT work, so bye all. I hope you liked it. 


End file.
